The Last Resort
by Cassandra Elise
Summary: Steed Goes on a Holiday. Emma Falls for a Stranger. This fic takes place during the first season. Chapter TEN is here! Updated 2/20/03 CONCLUSION! You might think the ending is a bit sappy, but I LUV Sap! :)
1. First Day

Pre-AVENGERS   
  
A short, thin man in a spotless black suit entered the lobby of a glamorous hotel. He addressed the perky woman behind the desk, "I will be checking out today." The man glanced warily through his tortoise shell glasses at his surroundings.   
  
"Thank you for coming to the Millbury Castle resort," replied the receptionist. "I hope you enjoyed your stay, Mr. Haley."   
  
Mr. Haley barely acknowledged the woman's remark as he wrote out an expensive check. He handed it to the receptionist before calling a bellhop to help him with his luggage. The porter placed all of Haley's baggage on a cart except for a black briefcase that the businessman clutched tightly to his chest.  
  
As Haley was leaving the castle that had been renovated into a hotel, a voice cried out, "I say, Haley, I haven't seen you in quite some time!"   
  
Mr. Haley looked about himself until he discovered the owner of the voice. It appeared to be an old friend from his army days, Colonel Fitzgibbon. "Fancy meeting you here," Fitzgibbon added as he extended his arm for a handshake. "You've always been the relentless businessman, never taking holidays."  
  
"Well, that's how I became one of the wealthiest men in this part of the country," Haley promptly retorted. "And I wasn't taking a vacation; I was here on a business transaction. Somebody wanted to buy my company from me, but I refuse to sell out to anyone or anybody." Mr. Haley spoke loudly now, as if he wanted a certain person to hear him. He nervously set his briefcase down on the stone floor.  
  
A man concealed in the shadows of a suit of armour glared menacingly at the Haley's declaration. As Haley bid adieu to his old acquaintance, the man who had been hidden followed him out the door. Just as Haley was about to cross the car park to his automobile, the stranger called, "You shouldn't have refused our offer, Mr. Haley. You will live to regret it."  
  
"Your price was too low for an expanding corporation like mine," Haley scoffed.  
  
"Just the same, you have made a grave error," the man responded icily.  
  
Haley hopped into his car and drove off down the castle's privately owned, dirt road. The stranger remained on the gravel parking lot, his lips a thin line.   
  
Colonel Fitzgibbon rushed out of the castle with Haley's briefcase. "Come back; you've forgotten this!" he bellowed to the open space where Haley's car previously was parked. He jumped into his own vehicle and took off after his friend. Colonel Fitzgibbon drove more than ten miles over the speed limit in order to catch up with Haley. After three minutes of speeding, Fitzgibbon realised with alarm that he should have caught up with Haley by now.   
  
He scrambled out of his automobile to examine the area. Bordering the beaten dirt road were large cattails and other undergrowth. Straight ahead of Fitzgibbon was the end of the dirt path that led into the main roads of the village of Millbury. Suddenly an inspiration came upon him as quick and as bright as lightening. He pushed his way into the brushes and cattails, farther and farther into the unknown. Finally, the Colonel saw what he had feared: Haley's car deserted in the high grass. There was no sign of life anywhere, nothing that would indicate that anyone had been there recently, not even a set of footprints. Yet there was Haley's car, the luggage still piled neatly in the backseat.   
  
Fitzgibbon returned to his car only to discover that Haley's suitcase, which he had left so carelessly on the front seat of his Mercedes Benz, had been stolen.  
  
The Last Resort  
  
Steed Takes a Holiday  
Emma Falls for a Stranger  
  
  
  
First Day  
  
Emma Knight was the no-nonsense businesswoman who had managed to become the chairman of the board and managing director of her business at the age of twenty-one. This would have seemed an even greater accomplishment if it weren't for the fact that her father had left her in charge of the corporation when he had died six months ago. Miss Knight, the intellectual woman with an I.Q. of 145, ran the business with an iron fist, to use an expression.   
  
It could appear to the outside that she was a tyrant, but Emma had to lay down certain rules or all the men who worked under her wouldn't respect her. It was, after all, 1961, a year when women's rights were still talked about in subtle tones and mostly in the homes. All the workers, with the exception of the several female secretaries, found it insulting to be working under a woman. The few men above Emma in power found it quite amusing.  
  
Perhaps that was why Professor Keller had decided to disobey orders and had been discharged. Maybe he had a difficult time submitting to the rules and ideas of a very emancipated woman. Whatever the case, Emma Knight had earned the reputation of being the stiff and detached boss whom no one ever messed with.  
  
If people had truly known her, they would have realised she was sassy, sexy, and incredibly amiable. They would have seen that Emma had a penchant for art, sewing, science, and her favourites: kung fu and karate. She was not biting and sour like whiskey but cool and mellow like her preferred drink, champagne.   
  
It was when she was misunderstood that Emma thought the most about her father Sir John Knight. She vividly recalled the afternoons they would spend together, horseback riding or just reading the latest edition of their subscribed science digest.   
  
It had always been a custom of theirs to try a new hobby every month. If Emma had no desire for the certain hobby, she could give it up. If she liked one well enough, she could continue it for as long as she liked. Being well to do certainly was convenient at times. Emma only remembered several activities that were unsatisfactory in her eyes. One was ballet, while the other was professional singing. True, the ballet training had been important when she was developing her kung fu skills, and she did enjoy singing, but the hobbies had just been too strenuous for the young and thrill-seeking woman.   
  
Miss Knight often wondered why she relished chopping wooden blocks and bricks apart over practising music scales. She didn't consider herself a tomboy by any means, but maybe deep inside she really was. Or maybe she felt so confined by the duties of a wealthy man's daughter and the duties of the chairman of a huge corporation that she just had to find excitement somewhere. And fighting an opponent was an exhilarating ordeal for her. Perhaps in the future she could put her excellent karate and kung fu skills to a good and productive purpose . . .  
  
On that fateful Monday when she entered her spacious office, Emma was somewhat annoyed at the behaviour of her employees. The workers had been talking blithely with each other until she stepped into the lift, and then an uncomfortable silence fell over them all. Miss Knight had long given up trying to start a friendly conversation with anyone, for as soon as she broke down the barriers she was asked on dates by every available man in the vicinity. The only worker she could be chummy with was Nancy Young, the black haired personal secretary to Miss Knight.  
  
"Hello, Emma, how are you today?" asked Nancy. When she received no response, she demanded, "Are you feeling ill?"  
  
"Have you ever known me to be unwell?" Emma seated herself in her desk chair, crossing her legs sexily at the ankles. She smoothed her black leather skirt, which stopped several inches above her knees.   
  
"You have a board meeting at nine o'clock this morning," Nancy reminded her. "Oh, and your horoscope says that this week you will bump into a tall, dark, and handsome stranger."  
  
Emma smirked amusedly as she replied, "You know I don't believe in horoscopes."   
  
"Well, perhaps it will come true today, though!" Nancy protested.  
  
Emma marched over to the desk and opened Nancy's desk drawer. There were more than twenty issues of old horoscope magazines from previous years. Emma Knight flipped to the summer edition of last year and opened to a marked page. Smiling superiorly, she pointed at her fortune from the previous year. "'You will meet a tall stranger in a trench coat,'" Emma read.  
  
"All right, so it said the same thing two years in a row; maybe it's trying to tell you something."  
  
"It's trying to tell you that you need a new hobby." Emma gathered her papers for the meeting together before entering the committee room.   
  
Her peers greeted her quite cordially as she seated herself in her appointed chair. "I suppose you know Mr. Cunningham, Miss Knight?" asked Lanier, the chief executive.   
  
Emma surveyed Cunningham, a blond man with the piercing green eyes and sneering visage. She took an immediate dislike to the man of thirty odd years of age. "How do you do?" she asked as politely as she could muster.  
  
"As you know, Mr. Cunningham wants to buy this company for a rather reasonable price," Lanier continued.   
  
"I think it would be in your best interest to buy, before we change our minds," Mr. Cunningham began rather threateningly.  
  
"This was my father's brainchild, something he worked at for years. As you may know, he just died several months ago. I'm not ready to let go of this corporation," Emma retorted.  
  
"Don't let your feminine sentiments mingle with your economics," Lanier warned.  
  
"I just don't think the deal is that fair," Emma insisted. She was being treated inferiorly again, something that aggravated her.  
  
"Miss Knight, why don't you step outside for a while until you're able to control yourself," Cunningham suggested cruelly.  
  
Miss Knight sagely made no reply but quitted the room. If she lashed out, the other members of the board may side against her. She wished she wasn't involved in an activity as complex as business. It would be so much easier to not work and just do whatever she felt like on that day. She wished she could be on her own, never dependent on any of her fellow workers ever again.  
  
As soon as Emma entered her office, Nancy looked up from her typing. "The meeting is over already?"  
  
"No, I was just dismissed until further notice." Emma nonchalantly brushed a piece of her flipped, reddish brown hair from her face.  
  
"Well, since you are the chairman of the board, I don't think they can come to any important conclusions without you."  
  
"Why do you think I'm not worried?" Even though Emma made this pronouncement, her gorgeous countenance was creased with lines that were obviously not from old age but from stress.  
  
Nancy shook her head as she said, "I think you need a long holiday."  
  
"I cannot possibly go during this dilemma! We may be in the middle of a sellout and you're talking about vacations!" Emma's brown eyes were clouded over with a look of annoyance. "If I don't quit this job soon, there is the serious possibility that I will have a nervous breakdown."  
  
"Then just sell the company! Your father and mother would have cared more about your well-being than this gigantic industry, even if it was Sir John's baby."  
  
Emma walked over to a massive window that covered the entire south wall of her office. Her office was on the seventh story of the building. Miss Knight gazed down at the car park, each vehicle the size of a matchbox from the great height. "I would sell, if only I was certain that Cunningham and his band of merry men weren't criminals."   
  
Emma watched a man place sheaves of paper behind each windshield wiper of the myriad of cars down below. "Nancy," she began slowly, "What is that man doing?"  
  
Miss Young came over to the window to see what her friend and employer was talking about. "I'm not sure, but I'll have a look if you like." Before Emma could answer, she had sped out of the room, her brown high heels clicking on the polished marble floor.   
  
Emma hugged herself, letting the silk of her white blouse rub against her skin. The ruffles on the cuffs and neckline billowed softly with each movement.   
  
As she stood there pondering over her monotonous yet at the same time complicated life, Mr. Lanier called her back into the conference room. After an hour of debating, nothing had been resolved, so the meeting was adjourned. Emma was exhausted after the conference, especially after Cunningham had told her she would regret it if she refused his company's proposal. Lanier civilly offered to escort Miss Knight back to her office. She willingly conceded, and the two made their way down the hall from the committee room to her own workplace.   
  
Emma had forgotten all about the mysterious man in the parking lot until Nancy brought it up. "The man was leaving flier that advertised the opening of the Millbury Castle on each of the cars." Nancy thrust a piece of white paper into Miss Knight's unsuspecting hands.  
  
"'Come to the grand opening of Millbury Castle and take a trip back in time,'" Emma Knight read uninterestedly. "'It's an all-inclusive resort in England's beautiful country. Don't delay; make your reservations today.' I don't see what so special about this hotel," Emma told her friend.  
  
"You need a vacation, and here was this advertisement on your car!" Nancy bubbled over with excitement. "It has to be a sign!"  
  
"What's all this about a holiday?" Lanier asked curiously.  
  
"Emma is in desperate need of some relaxation, so I suggested she take a break from her strenuous job," Nancy Young explained.  
  
"Yes, I quite agree with your secretary, Miss Knight," Lanier exclaimed. "And this castle sounds like an admirable establishment with plenty of activities to occupy you for-let's say-two weeks."  
  
"You really think I should leave my job for that long?" Emma inquired in wonderment.  
  
"I think you need the rest, my dear," Lanier replied in a paternal tone. It seemed the sixty-year-old felt a certain grandfatherly love for the young and beautiful woman.  
  
"If you're all decided against me, I might as well take that holiday," Emma laughed constrainedly. She was so tired from all the pressure that had been placed upon her in the last six months. She knew she should feel complimented that her father thought she had been capable enough to take over his job, but she just felt older and more hassled than she had ever felt in her almost twenty-two years of life.  
  
**************  
  
Dr. David Keel finished the last bite of his lunch just as his next patient came into the office of his surgery, or at least he thought it was a patient. His brown, puppy dog eyes soon noted that it was John Steed, the secret agent, who stood before him. John Steed had the tendency to be rough and malicious with his enemies and gentle and charming with his friends, especially the ladies.  
  
"What seems to be troubling you today, Steed?" queried the doctor.  
  
"What is troubling me are four missing men and no motives," Steed replied. He walked over to the doctor until his six-feet frame towered over Keel. "These murders have been giving me an appalling headache." Steed scrunched up his gentlemanly face and emitted a painful groan.  
  
"Why don't we step into the examining room?" suggested David Keel before ushering his friend into the adjoining chamber. "What have been the symptoms?"  
  
"I've gotten a sharp pain in my left eyelid, which is followed with an excruciating tingling sensation across my forehead."  
  
"No, I meant is there any connections between these disappearances?"  
  
"You certainly have a strange way of putting things!" Mr. Steed responded amicably. "Each victim is a renown businessman with oodles of money. They all are the head representatives of their company, and the same corporation, Putnam's Plastic Co., is trying to buy them all out." Steed perched himself on the stiff examining table and began swinging his long legs back and forth like a young child might do.  
  
"Well, isn't obvious that this plastic business is behind these crimes?" Keel asked, using his sharp mind to help his companion. He seated himself in a black swivel chair.  
  
"Of course, but we still haven't the foggiest what Putnam's men have done with the businessmen or why Putnam's Plastic Co. has suddenly taken an interest in all four companies."  
  
"Obviously Penny feels the other corporations will do his own business good."  
  
Steed's greyish-blue eyes stared into Keel's eyes, as he demanded emphatically, "Have you ever heard of Putnam's Plastic until I told you about it?"  
  
"That's a ridiculous question to ask!" Keel scoffed. "Do you know anyone who's heard of that little company?"  
  
"If the business is so small and private, how can it have enough money to buy out four of the largest corporations in Great Britain?"  
  
Dr. Keel gazed confusedly at the expectant Steed. "There must be something very sinister going on."  
  
"That's what my job is: find the missing businessmen and discover exactly what this plastic company is doing." Hopping down from the table, John Steed stepped over to the doctor. "I need a capable physician in case one I find the kidnapped businessmen and they're injured in any way. Do you think you can get away from your practice for a few weeks?"  
  
"I will have to speak with Carol first." Keel called for his trusty nurse, who immediately obeyed the summons.   
  
The smiling brunette was quickly informed of the plan. She assured Dr. Keel that he had few patients next week, and if it were at all possible, she would try to have them come in today and tomorrow. Then Dr. Keel could meet Steed wherever they were bound.  
  
"Every single businessman had been staying at the Millbury Castle, which has been recently renovated into an elegant and expensive resort. Three of the men were there for conventions with Putnam's Plastic Co., while the other was there just for some leisurely time."  
  
"How can you have a meeting at a castle?" Nurse Carol Wilson asked.  
  
"A palace has many rooms, some of which were actually used as conference rooms in the olden days. The owner of the castle kept these chambers almost exactly as they were centuries ago and rents them out for business executives to use," Steed explained. "Anyway, I was just informed by my superiors that Putnam and his men are trying to talk Sir John Knight into selling out to them."  
  
"Sir John Knight died a few months back," David told Steed. "A relative of his took over the enterprise; I don't remember exactly who it was."  
  
"Well, Putnam and his workers trying to convince Sir John's relative to accept their proposition. So far, he's refused all offers, so I'm supposed to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't suddenly take a trip to Millbury Castle and disappear." Steed exited the examining room and reentered the doctor's office.   
  
"It looks like you will be extremely busy over the next several weeks," David Keel surmised as he and Carol followed Steed. "I'll try to get away from my surgery as soon as possible."  
  
"I'll call you tomorrow if I have to leave London for any reason," Steed called before quitting the building. Little did he realise that he was about to take a very extended trip to Millbury Castle.  
  
**************  
  
Emma Knight sighed wearily as she climbed into her black car. It used to belong to her father, and he had bequeathed it to her in his will along with everything else. Miss Knight really wanted a blue sports car of some sort, but for the time being, Sir John's car would do for her purposes.   
  
She expertly drove out of the parking lot of her office building and down the street, drawing nearer to her penthouse. She would pack her suitcases and then head to the Millbury Castle, where she hopefully would spend two weeks of bliss. She soon arrived at her destination, so she quickly packed before heading out once more.  
  
She sped down one of the main streets of London, barely making it through the first stoplight. As she headed toward the highway, she perceived a brown Rolls Royce turning out of a car park for a ritzy restaurant. It pulled in right behind her, but Emma found nothing peculiar about it. It was only when it followed her on the highway that she became a little curious as to where the car was going. She quickly changed lanes, and the brown auto pursued her.  
  
Emma Knight continued driving for an hour, the brown vehicle trailing behind her every moment. It was after an hour and a half that Emma grew completely suspicious and peeved at the obvious stalker. She decided to exit the public road to take a less known detour. Deftly she pulled in front of a semi-truck, making it impossible for the brown car to follow her. Smiling smugly, Miss Knight made her exit onto the side road. Fortunately, she was able to finish the trip safely.  
  
Miss Emma Knight arrived at the Millbury Castle late at night, exhausted and ravenous. She checked out a room, had the porter place her luggage in it, and then found her way to the grand dining room.   
  
The grand dining room was a large hall with one continuous wooden table, which seated well over fifty guests. It was the place where the guests could mingle with their fellow visitors. On the stone walls were ancient shields with the family seals of more than a few royal lineages. Several authentic chandeliers, complete with real candles, illuminated the massive room.  
  
After a hasty meal, Emma Knight stumbled into her hotel room. She was in desperate need of sleep, and she could feel it in every muscle in her body. Slowly, she slipped into a light pink nightgown before sliding under the covers of her queen size bed. Everything certainly is very royal at this palace; perfect for a Knight, Emma thought as she fell into a deep slumber.  
  
Back in London, John Steed received an extremely urgent call from another spy. "Steed, this is Mike Robinson," came a husky voice over the phone. "I followed Knight this evening, who went directly to Millbury Castle."  
  
"It seems he's going to need immediate protection," Steed mused. "I'll leave for the palace early tomorrow morning."  
  
"All right," Michael began, "and Steed, 'early' does not mean ten o'clock."  
  
"Why, Robinson, you know I always get up at nine!" Steed exclaimed in mock defense. Hanging up the phone, he entered his miniscule bedroom. He really needed to rent a roomier flat, for this restricted apartment was unbearable.   
  
John Steed smiled as he set his alarm for eight o'clock in the morning. He truly would have to force himself to get up that early the next morning. "You need to change your lazy habits, Steed old boy," he told himself.  
  
Steed removed his navy blue suit jacket and unbuttoned his matching vest. Glancing in the looking glass that hung lopsidedly on the wall, he tipped his bowler hat playfully. Suddenly, he shook his head, smiling widely. No, his habits were just perfect for him; he wouldn't change a thing for all the jewels in the royal crown. The only person who could possibly change him was a woman, and she had to be extremely attractive and accomplished . . .  
  
To Be Continued! 


	2. Second Day

Second Day  
  
  
Emma Knight awoke the next morning, feeling refreshed and ready to face the new day. After a hearty breakfast in sitting room that had been converted into a restaurant, Emma decided to go horseback riding.   
  
The palace's stables could be reached either by walking a mile down a weather beaten path that meandered its way through the castle's woods, or by driving down a manmade road. Miss Knight chose to drive her car, since she didn't want to run the risk of getting lost. Miss Knight had forgotten to pack her riding habit, so she would have to rent apparel at the stables. These thoughts in mind, she followed the carved signs to the horse barns.  
  
******************  
  
John Steed called David Keel the following morning to tell him of his plan to depart today for Millbury Castle. Keel couldn't leave his surgery that day, but he promised to join Mr. Steed tomorrow. After making his phone call and grabbing a blueberry scone, Steed exited his congested flat. With his two compact suitcases, Steed climbed into his sleek, modern car and took off toward the palace.   
  
He really wanted an old Bentley, but no reputable secret agent drove such an antique. Spies were supposed to be up-to-date on all the gadgets and sports cars. Maybe someday he would break away from the image he was supposed to be and act in his natural, old-world and gentlemanly way. After all, being so ruthless was not his normal behaviour, unless he was completely piqued by a certain unruly criminal.   
  
After a leisurely trip, Steed arrived at his destination. He surveyed the surroundings with utter interest, his brain absorbing even the most trivial of information. The castle was made of grey stones, withering from old age and misuse from the many wars that had been fought between feuding families. Four turrets, banners still waving on their roofs, had been built in each corner. A massive, wooden door closed the palace from the outside world, while a wooden drawbridge spread across the still intact moat. Grass and other plants outlined the gravel parking lot, which was filled with expensive cars. This resort certainly was a vacation outlet for the wealthy.  
  
"I should fit right in here," Steed mused to himself. His many years of spying had left quite a bit of money in his bank account, making him extremely rich for a man who had began his career as a lowly private in the RAF.  
  
As he was staring intently at the palace's tower, he noticed a vehicle cruising into the lot at an erratic speed. Turning sideways to have a look at the foolish driver, he perceived that it was a young woman. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat, and it wasn't because the woman was terrifying to behold, but because she was one of the most gorgeous creatures he had ever seen in his thirty-seven years of age. Reddish brown hair, which came right below her ears, outlined her elegant and beautiful face. And long lashed, brown eyes were fixed on a parking space ahead.   
  
Unfortunately, they were not aware of Steed's car, which was blocking most of the entranceway to the car park. Before he was completely sure what had occurred, Steed felt a sharp jolt go through his body and heard the sound of metal crushing.  
  
Emma was also oblivious to what was happening until it was too late. Fearing the worst, she slammed on her breaks, but she had already collided into the car in front of her. Emma's right side rammed into the car door, leaving an unsightly dent in the metal. Her windshield burst into a million fragments of glass, cutting her everywhere that was vulnerable. She hastily shut her eyes to prevent any glass from entering and waited helplessly.   
  
Agilely, Steed hopped out of his car to see if the woman was alive. He peered into the car only to discover that the lady was sitting motionless in her seat. He couldn't help but notice that her statuesque figure was slender and full where it should be, and the yellow floral sundress complimented her body perfectly.  
  
As Steed glanced agape at the woman, she remained inert, as if she were dead. The stranger finally shook herself from her stupor to look at who she assumed was the guilty offender. Her lovely eyes flashed in annoyance as she tried to open the jammed door.  
  
"I'm extremely sorry that I didn't move my car when I saw you approaching," Steed apologised profusely.  
  
Miss Knight scrutinised the tall man before retorting, "You should be more cautious if you want to keep your license." She managed to smile painfully as she added, "Fortunately for you, I don't hold grudges, or I would report you to the police."  
  
"Lucky for me you're still alive!" Steed cried, relief flooding his nervous voice. He managed to pry open the car door for the shaken lass.  
  
"Well, I only fell onto my right side and was cut into shreds my glass," Emma remarked half gravely and half in jest. If it was one thing she had learned it was to make light of deadly situations and to always remain composed. Miss Knight felt both of her sides to make sure nothing had been broken. Once convinced she only had gigantic and excruciating bruises, she rose unsteadily to her feet.  
  
"Might I be of any assistance?" Mr. Steed asked anxiously. He placed a gentle hand on one of the lady's scratched arms. To his dismay, one of the white straps that held up her attractive sundress was tearing at the seam.  
  
Emma didn't respond but gingerly touched her right side. Some warm liquid ushered forth from a gash she had received when she crashed against the door. "It appears that I am bleeding," she proclaimed in an indifferent tone.  
  
John Steed was amazed at the young woman's tranquility during this crisis. "Oh dear, you don't think you'll need stitches?"   
  
"That would be quite a side stitch!" Emma quipped. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just pay a visit to the hotel's physician." Miss Knight squinted in pain as she made her way into the castle, but she showed no signs of her discomfort to the tall man with the bowler and three-piece suit.  
  
Steed stared admiringly at the brave woman until she disappeared from sight. As he was carefully parking his dented car, workers from the hotel filed out to clean up Emma's destroyed vehicle and the area around it. The manager of the hotel nervously asked if Steed wanted to file a complaint against the other driver.  
  
Steed meditated briefly before responding, "No, I'll just work out some sort of agreement with her. You had better notify the police to say there's been an accident." The manager wandered off muttering something about "bad publicity."   
  
John Steed knew what that luscious woman could do to repay the damages; she would have to eat dinner with him. Grinning from ear to ear, John entered the hotel with his luggage. As he headed over to the registration desk, a short man with an impeccable mustache approached him.  
  
"I say, who is your tailor?" the stranger inquired of Steed.  
  
"I go to this small establishment in London," John answered. When the two men were certain no one was eavesdropping, Steed began, "Robinson, are there any reports on this Knight fellow?"  
  
"So far everything is as normal as apple pie," returned Mr. Robinson. "None of Penney's gang has shown their diabolical faces around these premises yet." Mike Robinson slipped Steed a portfolio filled with glossy photographs. "Here are the men you should be on the lookout for. I'm going to head back to London to investigate the Penney's Plastic Co. offices and industrial plant. I should return either tomorrow or the next day."  
  
Robinson was about to leave when Steed checked him. "Shouldn't you point out Mr. Knight before you leave?"  
  
Mike stared at him strangely before replying, "The relative that took over Sir John's position when he died was his daughter Emma. Her picture is included with the suspects." With this remark, he left Steed in an incredulous stupor.   
  
Steed shook himself from his reverie and grinned broadly. So far he had two women to flirt with, the beautiful woman he had run over with his car and Miss Emma Knight. Even though he was technically still on the job, Steed knew he was going to have a relaxing and fun holiday.   
  
After Steed checked in, a porter showed him how to get to his room from the lobby. He had to climb up the grand stone staircase and then took a right at the landing on the second floor. After passing the many rooms on that floor, he reached a smaller staircase that wound its way to the third and final story of the building.   
  
His room was number 314, a luxurious chamber with a four-post bed made out of mahogany, and a matching wardrobe. A full-length mirror was on the opposite wall of the wardrobe, while the bed stood in the center of the room. Across from the bed, near the door to the hallway, was an exquisite tapestry. A stiff chair with a velvet cushion stood in the left corner, and near that was a bedside table. Beside these few pieces of furniture, the colossal room was empty.  
  
"The washrooms and showers are located at the end of each hallway, sir," the porter said. "There are four corridors on each floor." After placing Steed's baggage on his bed, the bellhop quitted the room.   
  
Steed decided to explore the grounds, so he changed into casual khaki pants and a light green short-sleeved shirt. John then drew back red curtains that matched the seat cushion, revealing a window. Once there was enough sunshine in the room, Steed found his way downstairs.  
  
He went through the lobby down a hall he had noticed when he had first arrived. It led to the banquet hall where Miss Knight had eaten the night before. It also led to one of the two kitchens and the first aid station. Steed was tempted to see if the mystery lady he had nearly killed was still at the surgery, but he checked himself. He was looking for Miss Knight.  
  
That's when he realised he had left the portfolio upstairs in his room! He could return to his room to retrieve it, but he had already come a long way from there. "I'll just look for Miss Knight later," he muttered to himself as he stuffed his hands into his pant's pockets.  
  
He returned to the lobby again and turned down a different corridor. Down this hall were the library, billiard/game room and a little pub. At the end of the hallway was a wooden door that led to the lovely outside. Steed stepped through the doorway onto a granite patio (he was noticing the pattern with stones) and discovered that he was near the swimming pool, which was built into the ground. The patio went all around the pool, and lounge chairs were placed on the rock where bikini-clad beauties lay, catching a few rays of the summer sun. They giggled and smiled demurely at the ogling Steed, his roguish side coming through. Portable changing rooms stood on the grass near the poolside.   
  
Farther down on the green lawn, people were playing croquet, and looming high above the trees was a giant hedge maze. Steed spotted the path that led to the stables, but he did not know where it went, so he decided to traverse it. In a short while, he had disappeared beyond a bend.   
  
Meanwhile, in the first aid station, Emma was letting the words of the doctor skim over her mind like a sailboat across the water. All she heard was something about "no broken bones" and being "very lucky." Then the physician told her not to strain herself by going swimming or horseback riding over the next few days, but instead relax by the pool or read a book. He wrapped her side in a bandage and told her to come tomorrow so he could see if she still needed the bandage or if it could be removed.  
  
Still in a haze, Miss Knight thanked the doctor and left the establishment. Her fortune had predicted that she would collide with a tall, dark stranger, which is exactly what had happened earlier. Emma knew it was more than likely a coincidence, but she couldn't stop thinking about the debonair man in the striped blacked suit and black bowler. There was something strange about his whole persona, like he was hiding something. Why did such a distinguish man in gentlemanly apparel drive a sports car? The two items were completely incongruous! Emma wasn't certain about many things with the stranger, but she did know she was fascinated with him and wanted to see him again.   
  
She climbed the grand staircase to her room on the second floor, where she grabbed a bathing suit to change into at the swimming pool. She didn't care what the doctor had told her; she knew the water would help her wounds. Miss Knight really wanted to wear her bikini, but the big gash might be too gruesome a sight for bystanders. Squinting up her face in disgust, she took off her blood-soiled sundress. She wasn't sickened by the grisly sight, but she was dismayed to note that her dress was ruined from the stain. After changing into an easy outfit to throw off and on once she was in the pool's changing rooms, she headed back downstairs.  
  
Soon she was submersed in the ten-feet deep pool, letting the water cool her aching and hot body. She treaded water in the deep end for several minutes but soon noticed that her injured side was hurting from the activity. Emma rolled her eyes at the thought of damaging her side worse than it already was and having the doctor scold her severely. She swam into the shallow end, where she stood watching fellow guests swim by her.  
  
"If it isn't that lovely woman I saved from peril," a male voice cried.  
  
Miss Emma glanced about her until she spotted the man whose car she had crashed into. "Where have you been over the last hour?" she inquired.  
  
"I was taking a look at the extensive grounds. I just came back from the stables." Steed seated himself in a lounge chair near the delectable Emma.  
  
Miss Knight wanted to say something, but she knew not what this man would find interesting. "You should take a dip; it's very refreshing."  
  
"I don't think you or anyone else would find me very attractive in bathing trunks," replied the stranger.  
  
Emma smiled at this comment as she watched an athletic woman execute a perfect swan dive into the pool. "Do you know how to dive?" she asked lamely.  
  
The man seemed to find this amusing, for he chortled continuously for several minutes. "If I could, I wouldn't mind wearing a bathing suit. Why don't you show me how it's done?"  
  
"With my injuries, that wouldn't be very clever or beneficial for my health." Emma waded over to the stairs of the pool and climbed out. She leisurely wrapped a towel around her slender figure, but before she did, Steed was able to catch a glimpse of her bathing costume.  
  
It was sky blue with sewn in sparkles and bikini cut legs. The thin straps of the suit connected to a low cut, heart shaped front. The middle of the bathing suit was cut out, revealing a toned stomach and a belly button, something very shocking to see in 1961!  
  
Steed immediately liked the lady even more than before. Any woman who was tough enough to swim when injured, and brave enough to wear such provocative apparel was definitely his style.   
  
Emma observed with a smirk that the man was staring lustfully at her figure. For some reason, she didn't mind if this man found her attractive. After a moment she realised it was because she was now outside the work force and didn't have to behave staid so her workers wouldn't disrespect her. If she wanted to, she could go out with this man, not that she had any inclination to date.   
  
"I see you like my bathing costume," she began teasingly. "Would you like to know the tailor so you can purchase one for your-ah-lady friend."  
  
"A man of my ilk does not have 'lady friends.'" Steed feigned a look of utter insult.   
  
"If you have such high class, why is it that your mind instantly jumped to the conclusion that I was implying a 'lady friend,' is something wicked?" Emma asked, grinning mischievously.  
  
Steed realised he had been defeated at his own playful game, but he decided not to sulk over it. Instead, with a puckish gleam in his greyish-blue eyes, he pushed his companion into the pool!  
  
Emma sputtered as she floated to the surface of the water. Her now thoroughly soaked towel clung tightly to her body, so she had no way to dry herself off. She could have been infuriated at the stranger for committing such an impish deed, but she decided to retaliate in a good-humoured way. Pretending to be offended, she waded over to the edge of the pool.  
  
John Steed knelt down next to her, a look of regret etched across his face. "I'm extremely sorry for by rude behaviour," he began as he placed his agitated hands in on top of his bent legs.  
  
Emma glanced at his face, then at his hands, and then at the pool. Before the stranger could utter any more sincere apologies, she grabbed his hands and pulled him into the pool. She laughed giddily at the sight of the man floundering around in the water.   
  
Mr. Steed regained his footing and composure in order to shout, "Oh, so you're the type who plays rough!" He began splashing water on the jubilant woman.  
  
Emma Knight returned the gesture, and soon the two were immersed in a water war. Neither paid heed to the fact that Steed was in his clothes and Emma was wrapped in a towel. They merely laughed and grinned, amazed to find someone with almost precisely the same form of humour and intelligence.   
  
Finally, Steed and Miss Knight clambered out of the wet pool and sat down on adjacent chairs. Steed spoke first, "Now that we've been through our first 'fight,' maybe I ought to introduce myself. My name is Steed, John Steed."  
  
"I am Miss Emma Knight." Emma extended her hand for a handshake, but Mr. Steed merely stared at her queerly.   
  
"Are you the daughter of the late Sir John Knight, prominent entrepreneur?" Steed asked incredulously.  
  
"I'm guilty as charged, but how do you know about me?"  
  
"What businessman hasn't heard of you and your work?" Steed answered evasively.   
  
"What line of work our you involved in, Mr. Steed?" Emma inquired politely.  
  
"I work for the government," Steed replied. Miss Knight seemed unimpressed with this vague answer, so he lied, "I'm a secretary for the secretary of one of the members of Parliament." After receiving a disbelieving glance from the young woman, he added hastily, "Secretaries need their own people to file their papers. If a secretary is filing someone else's documents and writing somebody else's letters, when is he going to have time to write his own? That's where his secretary comes to the rescue."  
  
Emma must have found this answer plausible, for she asked, "Which member of Parliament to you work under, Mr. Steed?"  
  
"If I told you, I would be revealing whom I voted for in the last election, and that's very hush-hush." Steed smiled charmingly as he rose to his feet, his wet tennis shoes squeaking. "Are there any interesting business transactions going on at your company right now?" he prodded, hoping to get any valuable information about Putnam and his cohorts.  
  
"If you can have your secrets, I can have mine," Miss Knight retorted cheekily. "I'd say we're about even now."  
  
"Not quite, you still owe me for crashing into my car," Steed reminded her.  
  
"Uh oh, how much do you want me to pay?"   
  
"I just want you to spend a quiet evening at a cozy table, eating a romantic dinner for two with me. Then afterwards, we can take a stroll in the moonlight."   
  
Emma's red lips formed a tight grimace as she replied, "I figured there was some catch."  
  
"Would you rather pay me money? I could always use more capital than I have!"  
  
"I'll go out on you, but only on one condition: that you foot the dinner bill."  
  
Steed raised his eyebrows in surprise and dismay. "Do you realise that you're quite the blackmailer?"  
  
Emma Knight gave him a witty gaze as she answered, "I should be; I've been hanging around with one." Emma surveyed Steed's wet attire and declared, "You should change before you catch cold. It wouldn't do you any good to be ill during our dinner engagement."  
  
"What will you do while I'm gone?"  
  
"I want to phone my secretary to relay some important information." Miss Knight turned to leave, but Mr. Steed checked her.  
  
"You're calling your work while on a holiday?" Steed asked in an upbraiding tone.  
  
"Believe it or not, my secretary is a my close friend, so I consider it a pleasure call." Grabbing the grass woven bag that held her dry clothes, Emma entered one of the changing quarters.   
  
Steed began his long trek back to his luxurious hotel room. He received several admonishing glances as he entered the lobby in his wet apparel, but he ignored them all. If he paid heed to the numerous times he had been glared at, he would have a terrible inferiority complex by now.   
  
Emma Knight soon followed Mr. Steed's footsteps up the main staircase to her room, 235. She immediately advanced to her bedside table where the only two modern items in the room were located, a telephone and an alarm clock. She dialed her work number, and after several rings, Nancy Young answered the phone. "Hello Nancy, this is Emma Knight."  
  
"Emma, how are you this beautiful day?" Nancy exclaimed enthusiastically.   
  
"I take it everything at the office is running smoothly."  
  
"Yes it is, but what about life at the Millbury Castle? Is it everything you dreamed it would be, or is it a morbid little spot?"  
  
"I'm having a perfectly splendid time, surprisingly enough. The only thing I have to complain about is my totaled car."  
  
"How did that happen, Emma?"  
  
Miss Knight suppressed a chuckle as she related the whole incident to the concerned Miss Young. "So, do you think my horoscope really came true, or is it merely a coincidence?"  
  
"Why it's got to be your fortune becoming a reality, so I think it is imperative that you see more of this Mr. Steed. This could be your true love, and you might just pass him by without a second glance!"  
  
Emma smiled amusedly at her friend's sincere pronouncement, but she couldn't agree with what she said. "I don't think this gentleman is going to be my latest romance, but if it will make you feel any better, I'm having dinner with him tonight."  
  
"Just remember that love comes from the strangest sources." With this remark, Nancy hung up her phone.  
  
To Be Continued!  
  
  
Note: For all you Avengers fans, you may or may not have recognised my allusion to the Episode "Death's Door," in which Steed asks Emma if she believes in premonitions coming true. She replies that her fortune predicted she would collide with a tall, dark man, and that she had crashed into Steed's car. Steed, of course, declares that it was his fault, for he was too busy gazing at those "titian trusses." 


	3. First Afternoon

First Afternoon  
  
  
Emma shook her head as she gently placed the phone back on its cradle. Talking with her friend Nancy never ceased to entertain her. She brushed her silk purple pants and matching long sleeved top with four white buttons down the front. After towel drying her glossy hair as much as she could, she exited the room.  
  
As she was heading toward the stairs, a man stepped out of the shadows. "Miss Knight, what a coincidence to see you here!" the man remarked in a monotonous tone.  
  
Emma jumped back in alarm and stifled a scream. She regained her composure in order to say, "Mr. Cunningham, I didn't know you were at Millbury Castle." She eyed the blond man out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"I'm just relaxing for several days until it's time for the conference with you and the rest of the board on Friday."  
  
Emma Knight gazed confusedly at him before replying, "I was not aware of any business meeting this Friday. I was told to take a two-week vacation! Was this meeting going to occur without my being there?"  
  
Cunningham shrugged his soldiers disinterestedly as if it wasn't important if the chairman of the board wasn't present during crucial discussions. "I'm sure there has just been a misunderstanding, and if you wish, I'll have a look into it. Unless, of course, you'd like to settle our little disagreement right this instant?"  
  
It was meant to be a joke, but Emma found it anything but humorous. In a cool voice she answered, "I'd rather wait until I'm finished with this holiday, if it's not all the same to you."  
  
Mr. Cunningham retorted, "I'm a very patient man, but if you continue to put my off proposition, I will not be held responsible for the consequences!" With this last foreboding remark, Cunningham stormed off in his long steady strides.  
  
Despite her normally courageous manner, Emma couldn't stop her shuddering. Suddenly her purple outfit seemed too inadequate for the climate, for chills began to run up her spine and arms. She chafed her arms, trying to warm herself. Just as she was about to descend the staircase, Mr. Steed came down from the next story of the palace.  
  
"It's very civil of you to wait for me, Miss Knight," he commented jovially. Upon noting her distraught countenance, he asked tenderly, "Is anything the matter?"  
  
Emma Knight didn't wish to tell this stranger about the intimidating Mr. Cunningham, so she merely responded breezily, "I just encountered a very rude, young man who insisted on escorting me down to the lobby."  
  
Being the adept spy that he was, Steed immediately knew she was referring to one of Putnam's men even if she didn't admit it to him. He pretended that the answer was adequate enough for him and merely said, "Well, may I escort you downstairs, or will you refuse me as well?" He offered his arm for the lovely woman to rest her own arm upon, and the two trotted down the steps.   
  
"Shall we eat lunch together?" Steed suggested once they were in the lobby.  
  
"I might as well learn your eating habits so I'll be prepared for tonight," Emma joshed.  
  
The two decided on the pub, which served lunch and dinner at the resort. Once they were situated around a crude wooden table, Steed ordered the waiter, "Two brandies please, one straight and," he looked at Emma, "the other with soda." The waiter nodded solemnly before leaving the pair.  
  
Emma was about to make some small talk when she noticed Cunningham and an associate of his enter the bar. She feigned a look of unconcern, but obviously it didn't fool Mr. Steed for a moment. He turned around in his chair in order to see what his companion found so intriguing.   
  
"Is that the young chap who wanted to accompany you down the stairs?" he inquired.  
  
"Yes, but I've never seen his friend with him before." Miss Knight stared intently at Cunningham's friend, as if she was probing his name through the use of telepathy.   
  
Mr. John Steed interrupted Miss Knight from her thoughts with the remark, "When I changed clothes I forgot to put my wallet back in my pocket. If you'll excuse me, I'll just hurry up to my room and get it." He patted his blue polo shirt and his black pants, just in case he had overlooked his wallet but found nothing. He swiftly stood up from the table and exited the pub.  
  
Emma Knight merely continued staring at the two men from behind her menu.  
  
Steed glanced back at the pub entrance and, smiling, retrieved his wallet from his back pant pocket. It had been there all along, but he couldn't let Miss Knight know that the real reason he left so hastily was to have a look at the portfolio Robinson had given him. Steed had briefly skimmed the folder before changing his clothes, and he was almost positive he had seen Cunningham and his associate in the two of the pictures.   
  
Quickly, he climbed the stone stairs, noticing for the first time just how steep they were. There had to be lift somewhere for the less agile. Soon he entered his hotel chamber and was able to examine the portfolio's contents once more. To his satisfaction, he found that the two men down in the restaurant were Hubert Cunningham and Oliver Putnam. He made mental note of their names before quitting the room.  
  
Emma smiled when Mr. Steed returned to the room. "Did you find your wallet?"  
  
Steed stared at her blankly for an interminable minute and then sputtered, "Yes, it appears it was in my pocket the whole time." He let out an uneasy and embarrassed laugh. "Did you order your meal yet?"  
  
"No, I thought I would be nice and wait for you." Miss Knight tried to read the thoughts behind Mr. Steed's light eyes but it was futile. Whatever was bothering him, he hid it well under a veneer of utter complacency. Something about his secrecy irked her, but she quickly remembered that she was holding back information from him as well.  
  
The waiter came over to their table, jarring them from their meditations. They each ordered the fish and chips meal and ice tea. Steed really wanted another hard drink, but Miss Knight might not approve of such indulgences. And he wanted to remain in her good favor, so that he could be with her and protect her from Cunningham and Putnam. He needn't have worried if he had known what a cultured palate Miss Knight had, especially where wine and champagne were concerned.  
  
Since their tea was ready before their meal, the waiter brought it out. As Steed tried to put a straw in his drink, the plastic straw went sailing under the table. He bent to retrieve it, and as he did, he caught a glimpse of Putnam and Cunningham advancing toward them. "Don't look now, but you're charming friend is coming over here," he whispered to Emma. He placed the soiled straw next to his drink and decided just to sip the tea without the confounded thing.  
  
Mr. Cunningham was standing right over them now. "We keep bumping into each other, don't we, Miss Knight?"  
  
Emma chose to ignore his statement and queried, "Who is that gentlemen with you, Mr. Cunningham?"  
  
Hubert Cunningham made several reprimanding noises deep in his throat before replying, "You really should recognise Mr. Oliver Putnam, the man who's trying to buy your company."  
  
"You're not by any chance the Oliver Putnam of Putnam's Plastic Co.?" Steed questioned, pretending to be completely astonished.   
  
"You seem to know everybody," Emma Knight observed dryly.  
  
"I make it my business to know," Steed answered pertly.   
  
"My, this man certainly is well-informed," noted Mr. Putnam. "We could use men like you in our business, Mr. . . ."  
  
"The name is Steed, John Steed, and thanks for the offer, but I have a wonderful position that I wouldn't give up for the world."  
  
"Just what would you consider as being the 'world'?" Putnam asked temptingly.  
  
Steed knew Oliver Putnam was trying to find his price, but he answered flippantly, "When speaking of the 'world' one usually includes the continents and the oceans."  
  
Putnam ignored Steed and addressed Emma. "Since we're all residing at this hotel, maybe we could conduct that business transaction one of these days."  
  
Miss Knight was becoming quite peeved with Mr. Cunningham's and now Mr. Putnam's persistence. "As I told Cunningham, I am on a holiday and mean to enjoy it."  
  
The two men sagely left the table after that declaration. Miss Knight found Mr. Steed gazing expectantly at her. "All right, so Mr. Cunningham didn't try to escort me down to the lobby. He happens to be a unyielding businessman who can't seem to get into his head that I don't wish to sell."  
  
"If you want to have your secrets, that is perfectly fine with me," Steed assured her.  
  
"Do you have your deadly secrets that nobody is aware of?" Emma inquired teasingly.   
  
Mr. Steed's eyes became alert and even frantic at this sentence. Miss Knight was only joking, but the startled look in his eyes frightened her. Was he one of Putnam's men, trying to get on her good side so she'd be more willing to sell? It was a diabolical idea, but it might be true.  
  
Miss Knight tried in vain to start any interesting conversation, but her mouth had gone dry. After gulping her tea, she attempted once again to begin a worthwhile discussion. It seemed a discomfiting silence had settled over the twosome, each eager to speak but not sure what to talk about. Emma liked the quiet, but this stillness was something that occurred between two estranged people, not the friendly quiet that she had experienced with her father, or the type she shared with Miss Young.   
  
Steed stared at her, wondering what she was thinking, if he should tell her he was a spy. Whenever he was ready to speak, something checked him, as if subconsciously his mind would not let him tell this stranger the truth.  
  
Just when Emma thought she was going to flee from the pub, the waiter came with their food. Somehow Steed managed to thank the waiter in his courteous voice, but once done with civilities, he lapsed into that same silence.   
  
They each took several bites of their food, each noting how bland the fish and potatoes seemed to taste to them. Finally Steed managed to say, "Look, I know I probably alarmed you when I didn't answer your silly question, but there are instances in my life that I can't tell anyone. I'm not a criminal, if that's what you're concerned about. I'm just a thirty-seven year old man who's lived like most people have done." He pounded the table, and his fork with flying up into the air before crashing onto his plate. He added in a gentler tone, "I don't like to sit in an uncomfortable silence, and I'm fairly certain that you don't either. Why should we let such superficial comments put an end to a relationship that could blossom into an endearing friendship?"  
  
"You put my thoughts into words," Emma proclaimed. She laughed merrily, all her tenseness disappearing as she realised the foolishness of her worrying.   
  
"And if you don't want to continue this friendship, at least tolerate me for the remainder of the day," Steed entreated. "It would be a boring and terrible evening if we didn't talk to each other during our whole supper."  
  
"I solemnly vow to enjoy your company for at least the rest of today," Emma Knight declared lightly.  
  
"Thanks, that's very kind of you," Steed replied in an equally playful manner. He sipped his tea and tried to refrain from making a disgusted face. It was fruitless, though, for Emma Knight saw him and burst into a new round of giggles.  
  
"Something tells me that you prefer liquor to iced tea," she remarked. "To be perfectly honest, so do I."  
  
"Why don't we buy a bottle of champagne to go with our meal," suggested John Steed. He surveyed his plate of fried food and announced, "Never mind, champagne does not go well with fish and chips, unless it is a very poor vintage."  
  
"There is a wine cellar at this castle, so maybe we can sample wine and a bit of bubbly after our meal." Emma Knight said.  
  
"Ah, a bottle of 1934 Chateau de Leteur wine would be perfect for an aperitif tonight," Steed announced, reveling in the thought of drinking the alcohol.   
  
"1946 isn't so bad either, if you like a mellower claret," Miss Knight added.  
  
The two smiled at each other, amused that they both knew so much about wine. As their gazes interlocked with each other, something seemed to click. Suddenly it became clear to Emma and John that they were each other's counterparts. It surprised and pleased them, and they both wondered what was going to become of this friendship . . .  
  
  
To Be Continued! 


	4. First Night

First Night  
  
  
Miss Emma Knight and Mr. John Steed spent an hour and a half in the wine cellar, tasting different brands, vintages, and grapes. The duo seemed more at ease with each other than they ever had been since their first meeting only several hours earlier. Steed's strange behaviour at lunch was forgotten as they discussed liquor, politics, and automobiles.  
  
They were amazed at how often they agreed with each other. Of course there were the occasional differences, such as Emma wanting a modern sports car and Steed opting for a 1929 Bentley. But the two respected each other's preferences and never insulted the other because of it.  
  
All too soon, Emma and Steed went their separate ways, promising to meet in the lobby at seven p.m. Mr. Steed was going to explore the golf course of which he had heard so much praise, while Miss Knight wanted to start reading an interesting textbook on physics and chemistry. Once in her hotel room, Emma became so immersed in her work that she didn't pay heed to the cautious footsteps outside her room, nor did she hear someone slipping a piece of paper under her door.  
  
She only discovered the note when she got up from her uncomfortable chair to turn on a lamp that was shaped like a candelabra, since the illumination from the window was not enough. She gazed at the letter in surprise before picking it up. Gingerly, she peered at its contents and let out a gasp. There in chilling letters were the words:  
  
Some grapes are red.  
Some grapes are blue.  
If you don't watch out,  
I will murder you.  
  
Miss Knight thought about Mr. John Steed and his vast knowledge of wine. Was he the writer of this hostile note, or was someone else behind this sinister plot? If Steed was the author, why was he threatening her? Was it because he was working for Mr. Putnam, and they had just pretended not to know each other? If he were the enemy, would she be risking her life just to spend an evening with him? She shuddered at the prospect of going out with such a depraved man.  
  
Suddenly, her book on chemistry seemed inconsequential compared to the fate that could be hers. Sick at heart, Emma threw herself upon her carved, canopy bed. She stared at the red drapes of her bed and realised they reminded her of the blood red letters in the note. She turned over on her stomach, propping her chin up in her hands. I have to remain calm and collected if I want to come through this ordeal alive, she thought to herself. You've been threatened before by archrivals of Father. There is no difference, except you're alone now. Miss Knight just repeated these words until she lulled herself into an agitated sleep.  
  
Emma Knight awoke at six to the sound of her phone ringing incessantly. She lazily stretched her left arm until it landed on the bedside table where the phone was situated. She grabbed the phone and, placing it to her head, garbled, "Allo, Emma Knight here."  
  
"Miss Knight," came Mr. Steed's cheery voice, "I just wanted to remind you of your dinner appointment with me in an hour. I can't wait to see you!" Steed hung up the phone and began humming a breezy tune as he began to change into his black tuxedo.  
  
In her room, Emma slowly stepped onto the cold, stone floor. She noticed with dismay that she had wrinkled her purple outfit. It didn't seem important in comparison to the chore that loomed over her head. "I'll just ask a few casual questions about poetry and the such," she told herself. "If Mr. Steed seems edgy about anything, I'll just politely end the date and retire to my room. Then, I'll quietly make my exit in the morning."  
  
The idea seemed admirable, but Emma was still filled with apprehension. She sighed in exasperation as she began the tedious job of finding the proper dinner apparel.   
  
Steed finished his dressing a half hour ahead of schedule. He seemed unfazed at this and merely ordered flowers from the resort's florist to be sent up to Miss Knight. Then, black brolly in hand, he ventured out into the car park.   
  
All of the missing businessmen had disappeared on the drive out of Millbury Castle. Steed's plan was to have a look around the area where they vanished before returning to the hotel for his engagement. Casually, he hopped into his badly bent but still running car and drove the short distance down the private road. Soon Steed reached a section of the dirt road that was slightly different from the rest of the path. After a quick examination, he observed that the cattails to the right side of the road had been pushed or driven over.  
  
Seeing that no one was nearby, Steed parked his car by the side of the road before entering the depths of the brush. He soon arrived at a spot that had numerous tyre tracks from several different vehicles imbedded in the dirt and grass. There were no footprints in the dirt to indicate which way the men must have gone after driving into the shrubs. He was about to return to his car when he spotted an almost unidentifiable footpath weaving through the overgrown weeds. He delicately followed the path for several feet, but he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and voices. Quickly, he darted into the tall undergrowth and crouched low. He was suddenly very grateful that dusk had fallen, casting shadows on the entire outdoors, or his black tux would be extremely noticeable amidst the green and yellow plants.   
  
Mr. Cunningham and a stranger stepped into view, muttering unpronounceable sentences to each other. As they passed Steed's hiding place, he could make out the words, "This Miss Knight won't set up a meeting with us like the other four entrepreneurs did."  
  
Cunningham replied to the stranger, "Putnam doesn't care if she refuses to set up a conference with us here at Millbury Castle. If she doesn't cooperate, she's going to have the same fate as the other four."  
  
The other man protested, "It's going to be much more conspicuous if we don't at least 'talk' to her. By the way, whose car was that by the side of the road . . ." Their voices were inaudible now as they continued down the manmade trail.  
  
Steed was about to follow them when he happened to glance at his watch. To his utter consternation, he saw that it was five minutes to seven. He scurried as quickly as he could without being heard by the two men. Darting out of the cattails, he jumped into his auto. He sped down the road and into the car park. Fortunately, his parking space had not been taken, so he didn't have to search for a new one. In less than one minute, he was in the lobby, smiling congenially at the irritated Miss Knight.  
  
She arched a dark eyebrow as she announced, "Mr. Steed, you are exactly ten minutes late. You are not making a very amiable impression on me." She wrapped her mink stole tightly around her black-gloved arms. She was adorned in a knee length, black cocktail dress with a tasseled hem. Spaghetti straps held the garment up, and unlike her sundress and bathing suit, the neckline was modestly cut.   
  
"I'm sorry, but I was-" Steed noted that Emma Knight was staring quizzically at his attire. He glanced down at his outfit only to discover dirt and road dust smeared across his coat, pants, and small dress shoes. "Oh, I was going to fetch my umbrella from my car, and this vehicle came charging at me, spurting dust and filth all over me!"  
  
Miss Knight was trying to no avail to suppress a smile. She already had forgiven the charming man, but she wasn't going to let him have that satisfaction of knowing that. "I should have guessed when I received those gorgeous flowers that you were trying to make up for your being tardy. It's just like a man to give a girl a present when he's trying to apologise."  
  
"I hope you liked them," Steed began earnestly. "I thought the arrangement of roses and violets quite becoming. It reminds me of that little poem I learned as a boy."  
  
"What poem are you speaking of?" Emma recalled her threatening letter, which was based on that poem. She prayed he was not referring to that particular piece.  
  
"Don't tell me you've never heard, 'Roses are red; violets are blue; sugar is sweet, and so are you'?" When Emma didn't respond, Steed shook his head in incredulity, inferring that she was not familiar with the poem. "Well I won't carp over it. Shall we go to dinner, my dear?" He offered his arm like earlier, but Emma couldn't find it in herself to accept this time. She marched stiffly ahead of Steed, perplexing him greatly.  
  
All the evidence seems to prove that Mr. John Steed is the author of that letter, Emma thought. She sighed, determined not to let her feelings show during the whole meal. She entered the restaurant where she had eaten breakfast that morning.  
  
As the maitre'd showed them to their seats, Steed courteously allowed Miss Knight to walk ahead of him. Once they arrived at the table, the maitre d took Miss Knight's fur. When they were sitting at the elaborately decorated table, John Steed gazed at Miss Knight.   
  
He found her entire body perfectly rigid. This mystified him, for this was not the serene woman he had grown accustomed to over the last several hours. This was a petrified and bemused woman he had not yet witness before. He wondered if something terrifying had occurred over the last hour.  
  
The two chatted over trivial matters for the first half hour. Then their dinner arrived, and they became immersed in consuming their food. It was about halfway through supper when Emma Knight noticed that once again Mr. Cunningham, along with another one of his unknown friends, was complacently sitting several tables down from them.  
  
She instantly thought of his threats to her and then that anonymous letter. Who was her nemesis and who was her ally? As she pondered over this, Mr. Cunningham turned to glare at her icily. In that one gaze, he seemed to represent all evil and misfortune. Impulsively, Miss Knight asked, "Are you afraid of death?"  
  
Steed was startled at such an inquisition but after calmly chewing his piece of steak, answered, "I'm more afraid of the pain that might come before death. What made you think of such a morbid question? Is it because of your father, or is it something more sinister?"  
  
"I'm being threatened by someone, I know not whom." The words tumbled out over Emma's red lips as she explained the whole situation to the concerned man. When she finished, she stared at her plate of seasoned lamb chops. She wasn't certain if Mr. Steed was behind all these threats, yet she was confiding in him!  
  
"What you need is a bodyguard, and I know just the man to carry out such a task," Steed declared as he waved a green bean around on his fork. "I will gladly protect you for the remainder of your stay."  
  
"When are you leaving?" Miss Knight asked.  
  
"One or two weeks; it depends on what I feel like."  
  
Emma's worst fears were confirmed in that reply. In an annoyed and accusatory voice, she proclaimed, "Secretaries do not have the ability to decide when and how long their holidays will be." She didn't wait for a feeble excuse before continuing, "Now who are you and what do you really do for a living?" She leaned across the table at Steed, giving him an ample view done her dress.  
  
Mr. Steed fought the urge to stare at her exposure and replied swiftly, "I actually was commissioned by one of your dear friends to protect you while you were at Millbury Castle."  
  
"Why didn't you just tell me you were here for my protection?"  
  
"I knew what an independent woman you were and didn't want to insult you. You could very well defend yourself if the need arouse, so I pretended I was just an average secretary."  
  
Emma had only one more question plaguing her mind. "Who hired you to watch over me-Mr. Lanier?"  
  
Steed did not know any of Miss Knight's coworkers' names. Hesitantly, he replied, "Yes, it seems the old man was concerned over your safety because of this Mr. Putnam and his persistent men."   
  
Evidently Steed had chosen the right words when describing Mr. Lanier, for Emma Knight smiled in satisfaction. "I suggest you not lie to me anymore, or you will find yourself sincerely wishing you hadn't."  
  
"Are you threatening me, Miss Knight?" Steed asked in mock distress.  
  
"I'm only giving you a fair warning, Mr. Steed."  
  
"Please, just call me 'Steed'; the 'Mr.' is so formal."  
  
"If I call you 'Steed' than you may address me as 'Emma.'"  
  
Steed shook his head as he answered, "I will only feel comfortable if I call you 'Miss Knight.'"  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because my mother brought me up properly." Steed smiled politely at the laughing Miss Knight. "What, pray tell, do you find so amusing?"  
  
Emma played with some of her brown hair, which had been piled up on her head into little curly sections. "Tell me, Steed, was it your mother or father that taught you how to flirt with women?"   
  
"It was my father, naturally, but we never referred to it as flirting. We called it, 'attracting members of the opposite sex.'"  
  
*********  
  
After dinner, Mr. John Steed and Miss Emma Knight ventured out onto the pool patio where an orchestra was playing lively dance tunes for a small assemblage. Emma smiled demurely at Steed as she asked, "Do you dance at all, Mr.-I'm mean-Steed?"  
  
"I don't dance terribly well, but I haven't stepped on my partner's feet yet." Steed offered his hands to Miss Emma, and they stepped into the little throng of dancers. A love ballad began playing, and Steed couldn't help remarking, "They've saved the romantic music for us, very civil of them."  
  
Miss Knight sighed in irritation as her white stole fell to the ground. "I'll have to place this somewhere safe so we can dance."  
  
Mr. Cunningham seemed to appear from nowhere. "I'll hold on to that for you, Miss Knight," he offered, taking the mink wrap from her tentative hands.  
  
As Cunningham went to sit on one of the lounge chairs, Emma inquired pettishly to Steed, "Have you ever had a stalker?"  
  
"No, but from the look on your face, I can tell it's not a pleasant experience." Steed quickly distracted Emma by expertly dipping her. They spun around the stone patio, holding both of each other's hands, making sure their bodies were half an arm's length apart.  
  
The twosome danced to three songs before taking glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. After resting for a few minutes, they began swinging to a jazzy tune. They looked quite ridiculous in their dinner apparel dancing to a song that was popular with the teenagers.   
  
Steed was becoming winded, but he didn't want the evening to end so quickly. When another romantic ballad began playing, he pulled Miss Knight close to him for one last dance. Emma willingly let John Steed place a tender hand on her waist for the first time. With her hair cascading out of its hairdo from the strenuous exercise of the last few dances, she leaned her head on his brawny shoulder.  
  
The two were quiet, each contemplating different matters. Mr. Steed wondered if he had ever met a woman quite as exquisite and smart as Emma Knight. Miss Knight thought of how Steed was her protector, and even though she didn't really need one, it was consoling to know that he was there for her.  
  
All too soon, (by Steed's standards) the song ended. Emma and John clapped politely and wandered over to where Mr. Cunningham had been sitting. Much to their chagrin he was no longer there! "I think I see him over by the hedge maze," Emma commented. "I'll just run over and get my wrap from him." She dashed as quickly as she could in her black stiletto heels over to Cunningham.   
  
He turned upon her with a frightened look in his eyes. Upon seeing that it was Miss Knight, he relaxed and smiled. "Here is your stole back, and if I can do anything else for you-"  
  
"Thank you, but you've been so much help already." Emma was about to leave when a new, menacing tone came into Cunningham's voice.  
  
"You don't like me, do you? But you know you should, or the consequences will be great."  
  
"You wrote me that poem this afternoon, making it look like Steed was the author!" Emma accused him.  
  
"I'm not saying that I did, and I'm not saying that I didn't," was the unfazed reply.  
  
"Besides, he has several friends with him who could have written it." A stranger stepped out of the shadows, his green eyes glowing in the dim light that was coming from the pool area. He was the man who had eaten dinner with Mr. Cunningham.  
  
"That's right; Henderson could have done it," Mr. Cunningham agreed more genially than he should have. He and Mr. Henderson backed Emma into green wall of the maze. The threesome was now completely enshrouded in darkness.   
  
"I wouldn't come any farther, if I were you," Emma Knight warned them.  
  
Not heeding her advice, the men grabbed both of her arms. Emma used her free legs to kick each man in the shins with her sharp stiletto shoes. As they let go of her to tend to their wounds, Emma ran into the maze. Henderson stopped rubbing his leg and sprinted after the escaping woman. Miss Knight looked behind her at the impressive man, losing her balance. She fell flat face on the dry grass, enabling Mr. Henderson to catch up with her.  
  
He was about to attack her, but Emma quickly sprang to her feet and whacked him across the neck with one of her powerful karate chops. She continued to do so until Mr. Henderson toppled over in pain. As Cunningham came over to assist his friend, Emma used her mink stole to throw across his face, temporarily discombobulating him. In these few seconds of confusion, Emma scurried out of the hedge maze toward the pool.   
  
Mr. Cunningham quickly recovered from being blinded by the fur wrap and followed her. He grabbed Emma by one of her spaghetti straps, dragging her backwards toward the shadows. "You have a partiality for shadows, don't you Mr. Cunningham?" Emma asked as she struggled out of his grasp.  
  
Mr. Putnam arrived in this chaotic scene, crying, "What are you doing? Do you want us to be arrested on harassment charges?" Mr. Cunningham guiltily let go of Emma, sending her unceremoniously to the ground.   
  
To make the situation even more confusing, John Steed stepped into view. Staring at the disgruntled Putnam, then at the indignant Emma Knight, he remarked earnestly, "I hope I'm interrupting something." He helped Miss Knight to her feet, grabbed her stole from the remorseful Cunningham, and escorted her back to the Castle.   
  
"Thank you for coming to my rescue, but your help wasn't needed." Emma took her damaged wrap from Steed's large and capable hands. "My side is going to be in plenty of pain tomorrow," she predicted. "I think I'll just retire for the evening, if it's all right."  
  
"You're going to go to bed at eleven? There are many more things to do before the night is over!" Steed tried to usher her into the bar for at least a nightcap, but Emma was insistent that she should return to her hotel room.   
  
Reluctantly, Steed accompanied her to her room. "May I at least have a kiss goodnight?" he asked coaxingly.  
  
Emma smiled beguilingly and, inching ever so close to the expectant man, placed a light kiss on his cheek. "I will see you tomorrow, Steed!" she exclaimed as she slipped into her room and bolted the door.  
  
Despite his disappointment at the tiny peck, John Steed couldn't help but smile at the impish woman. Whistling cheerfully, Steed climbed the stairs to his room on the third floor.  
  
To Be Continued! 


	5. Third Day

Third Day  
  
  
Emma Knight awoke the next morning to the sound of incessant knocking on her hotel room's  
door. She groggily arose from her downy bed, grabbed a gauzy, white robe to cover her long,  
white lingerie, and glided into some mule slippers. She groaned with every step, her injuries from  
yesterday's car crash paying their toll. Carefully she unlocked the door and then opened it a crack  
to perceive a steward standing outside with a large wheeled table, a silver tray and cover on top  
of it.  
  
"You're breakfast is here, madam," the porter announced in a dignified voice.  
  
"I didn't order any breakfast," Emma informed him. As soon as the words left her lips, she thought  
of John Steed. He undoubtedly ordered the scrumptious smelling meal for her. "Never mind,  
please bring it in." She beckoned to one of the bare spaces on the stone floor.   
  
As soon as the steward had left the room, Mr. John Steed entered. "How are you this morning,  
my dear?"  
  
Miss Knight sunk unto her bed with an audible moan. "Oh Steed, I feel as if a herd of elephants  
stampeded over me last night!"  
  
"Don't you remember that's the very last thing that happened before you retired for the evening?"  
Steed joked.  
  
Emma managed to smile in response before lying back on her bed. Most normal women would be  
shocked and embarrassed to have a man in their room when they weren't properly dressed, but  
fortunately for Steed, Emma Knight was not an average woman.  
  
John Steed brought the table laden with food over to her bed. Gingerly, he coaxed Miss Knight to  
sit upright and placed the silver stray on her lap. With an exaggerated flourish, he removed the lid  
to reveal a plate filled with scrambled eggs, ham, fruit cocktail, and hash browns (the English  
always did have a fetish for potatoes.)   
  
"Am I supposed to eat all that?" Emma laughed at the ample amount of food.   
  
"No, I'm going to help you." Steed produced two forks and knives, much to the utter amusement  
of his lady companion. "My friend the doctor is always badgering me to eat three meals a day."  
Steed set a fresh newspaper next to Miss Knight on the bed. "Since you're a business tycoon, I  
thought you might want to read the daily paper to see how your competitors are doing."  
  
"I really don't have many opposition, due to the fact that there's not much need for ships anymore.  
People use trains or automobiles to travel across country and airplanes to go around the globe."   
  
"Aren't boats useful for shipping items?" Steed asked.  
  
"Yes," Emma conceded, "but I gather in the near future airplanes will take over most of the  
shipbuilders business." As Steed helped himself to some eggs and hash browns, Emma flipped to  
the business section of the paper. "Norman Kent, the business wizard, died two days ago of  
undisclosed causes!" she announced. "He was in such good health when I last saw him."  
  
"You've met this man before?" Steed questioned before taking a bite of ham.  
  
"Mm hmm, he was one of my father's friends. They would go hunting together, and I joined them  
several times."  
  
"What line of work was this Kent involved with?"  
  
"He was a manufacturer of firearms, which would explain why he enjoyed hunting so much. I  
suppose all that hard work finally was too much for him" Miss Emma tossed the paper aside,  
remarking, "It's funny; just a few weeks ago he told me he was going to take a break from his job.  
This is really ironic, but he said he was going to spend a leisurely holiday at Millbury Castle."  
  
Steed's head snapped to attention at this comment. He abruptly jumped to his feet and declared, "I  
just remembered I had a pressing phone call that I must make immediately. If you'll excuse me, it  
should only take a moment." He exited the room quickly, too quickly for Emma's liking.   
  
"What's the rush?" she called after him. She began nibbling at her meal, deep in contemplation.  
"Either he's phoning Mr. Lanier to tell him of this latest development with Mr. Kent, or he's going  
to Mr. Putnam to tell him that I'm catching on to their scheme," she mused aloud. "But what  
exactly is their scheme?"   
  
Meanwhile in his room, Steed was calling Agent Robinson. "Mike, what did you find out about  
Putnam's Plastic Co.?"  
  
"They're busy creating a plastic that is bullet proof and water proof. I think they're trying to build  
some indestructible ship!"   
  
"I wonder why?" Steed queried the void.  
  
"I believe it's some sort of conspiracy to take over the country!" Robinson declared with utmost  
certainty.   
  
"Before we jump to any conclusions, would you please tell me what line of business the other  
three companies Putnam tried to buy out are in?"  
  
"Mr. Boon was the first man to disappear, and his franchise was into electronic tracking devices.  
Mr. Carton's company manufactured explosives, and Mr. Haley, the last chap to vanish, was into  
engine motors. Mr. Kent was-"   
  
"I know the late Norman Kent was into firearms," Steed interrupted his colleague.  
  
  
"Did you say that Norman Kent died?" Mike Robinson demanded.  
  
"What's the matter? Do you think Mr. Putnam and his stooges had anything to do with it?"  
  
"I'm not sure about them being involved in any murder, but I do know that when I was at  
Putnam's plastic plant yesterday, I overheard some worker say that Mr. Kent signed papers  
several hours ago that gave Mr. Putnam full ownership of his firearms corporation."  
  
"But Kent died the day before yesterday, so how could he have signed anything!" Mr. Steed cried  
in obvious alarm.  
  
"I think we better arrest this Putnam and his men for forged handwriting," noted Robinson grimly.  
  
"We have no conclusive proof that anything was forged. After all, that worker you overheard  
speaking could have been misinformed. I will continue to look around for any clues while I keep  
my eye on Miss Knight."  
  
"I suppose it's the only thing we can do under the circumstances," Mr. Robinson sighed. The two  
agents said goodbye and hung up their phones.   
  
Steed continued to ponder over the entire mystery, hoping it wouldn't get any more complex.  
Silently, he traveled back to Miss Knight's room. Upon rapping lightly on the oak paneled door,  
he emitted himself into the room.  
  
Fortunately, Emma was now attired in a sleeveless, white blouse and matching pleated  
knee-length skirt with skin toned nylons and heelless shoes. She smiled gregariously as she  
pointed to the remaining food. "Please eat all you can of that delicious breakfast."  
  
Steed seated himself on a chair that was very similar to the stiff, velvet-cushioned seat in his  
room. In between bites, he told Miss Knight of his itinerary for the day. "I thought we might ride  
horses, or play croquet, or maybe check out that hedge maze."  
  
"Why don't we try to do all?" Emma Knight joked. She added seriously, "I can't really ride horses  
with this bruised side, so why don't we just play a leisurely game of croquet?"  
  
"Fine, we'll do that after breakfast and after I check up on a friend of mine that's supposed to  
arrive today." John Steed glanced at his watch to find out the time. Dr. Keel should reach the  
palace shortly, he mused.  
  
"Is it one of your lady friends?" Emma teased.  
  
"Actually, he's a doctor, who's trying to relax from his surgery for a few days. I told him Millbury  
Castle was the place to be this summer."  
  
"May I meet your friend, or is he shy?"  
  
"I have no objections, and I don't think he will either." Steed quickly finished his meal and the two  
went in search of his associate. Mr. Steed seemed to be in tune with David Keel, for as soon as  
they entered the lobby, Steed spotted the dark haired ally. "Dr. Keel, there you are!"  
  
Dr. David Keel whirled around to face his friend and beheld the lovely figure and countenance of  
Emma Knight. He tried to avert his gaze from her as he said, "I'm glad you came down to greet  
me, Steed. It would be difficult looking for you in this massive and chaotic place."  
  
"Dr. David Keel, this is Miss Emma Knight; Miss Knight, this is my friend Dr. Keel." After the  
introductions, Steed added, "We were just going to play croquet, but if you need my help finding  
your way around here, I will gladly stay."  
  
"That's an excellent proposal," Emma agreed. "I'll just head over to the croquet lawns and wait for  
you there."  
  
"I'll see you about ten o'clock, Miss Knight," Mr. Steed promised as he ushered Keel and his  
luggage up the grand staircase.  
  
"So that's the fellow you have to watch?" Keel asked with a wry smile.  
  
Steed sighed satisfactorily as he exclaimed, "Work really shouldn't be this enjoyable! I think she  
really is taking a fancy for me. If this keeps up I should expect a declaration of love followed by  
several welcomed kisses."  
  
Keel stopped on the stairs, dumbfounded and peeved. "So you'll have her fall in love with you and  
then what? Will you just leave the castle, never to see Miss Knight again, or will you tell her  
you're a spy and watch her reaction? Either way you're going to hurt her deeply, more deeply than  
you should. You don't seem to realise that love doesn't happen every day. It could take her weeks  
or maybe even years to get over a loss like that! I know, because I still hurt for Peggy, my  
fiancée, even though she's been dead for a year."  
  
"The problem is you live too much in the past!" Steed complained irritably.  
  
"And your problem is you live too much in the present, never thinking of the consequences your  
actions will have in the future," countered Dr. Keel. "Don't break that young woman's heart,  
Steed." His voice and his brown, puppy dog eyes were pleading with his companion.  
  
John Steed did not respond, put pushed open Keel's hotel room door. "I'm going to play croquet;  
I will see you later," was all he could manage to say.   
  
David Keel had never been the same since a drug dealer shot his wife to be. He had sworn he  
would avenge her death, and that was how he had become involved with Steed's cases. Keel  
despised Steed's chauvinistic and flirtatious manner where women were involved, and this  
annoyed John. Why did Keel have to dictate what he should and shouldn't do?  
  
Grousing to himself, he headed to the lawns where Miss Knight would be waiting for their  
rendezvous. His spirits lifted considerably as he spotted the effervescent Emma hefting a mallet  
over her shoulder. When she saw Steed approaching, she waved her free arm cheerfully. John  
Steed seemed to hop over to Miss Knight, her beguiling smile mesmerising him.   
  
"Shall we begin our game, or will your friend be joining us?" Emma Knight asked.  
  
"He decided to skip croquet, so we might as well start." Steed chose a red-rimmed mallet while  
Emma picked a blue one. The game was already set up so the guests only needed to start playing.  
Since both were expert gamesman/woman, the match was fairly even all the way through except  
at the end.  
  
Emma was had just lined up her mallet with her ball when Steed shouted, "Miss Knight, look  
behind you!" A croquet ball, which is quite a heavy object, sailed through the air, missing Emma's  
head by a slight margin. It smacked into a nearby tree, leaving a significant dent.   
  
It took only a few more perturbing seconds for the guilty party to step forward to claim his  
uncontrollable ball. Mr. Cunningham smiled sheepishly as he cried, "I'm terribly sorry about what  
happened, Miss Knight. Henderson told me I was hitting the ball too hard, but I wouldn't listen to  
him. I hope you aren't injured or anything."   
  
"I am a bit stunned but will recover more quickly if you leave," Emma Knight hinted none too  
subtly. Cunningham shrugged before returning to his game of croquet.  
  
Shaken considerably, Emma hit her ball but missed the next wicket. Much to her consternation,  
her ball lurched forward into a bush. So far her vacation was more torture than pleasure.  
  
First she had been severely injured in the car crash by a strange man who claimed Lanier had sent  
him. Then she had been tossed and nearly pulled apart by Putnam and his gang, and now she had  
narrowly escaped being smashed in the skull by a croquet ball! Emma wanted to cry, but she had  
no desire to do so in front of perfect strangers. Besides, she had trained herself not to cry under  
difficult circumstances.  
  
Miss Knight glanced through tears at the mercenary ball that had almost caused her a serious head  
injury or death. It was still lying under the tree as unassuming as any normal ball, but it made  
Emma's knees wobble. She gazed at the Hedge Maze with its peaceful green shrubbery. It  
beckoned to her, and before she knew what possessed her, she was marching hurriedly over to the  
entrance. Soon she was running wildly, never looking back at the now detested croquet game.  
  
"Miss Knight, where are you going?" Steed bellowed after her, but the young woman would not  
respond. He pursued her, his long strides allowing him to catch up to her in a short duration. He  
followed her into the maze, not pausing to consider which route was really the way out of there.   
  
They both walked through the maze, not speaking to each other, Emma always several feet ahead  
of him. When they arrived in the center of the maze, Miss Knight came to an abrupt halt. It was  
only then that Steed realised the reason she had wandered into the maze was so nobody would see  
her crying.   
  
"All right, now that you see that I'm crying, leave me alone." The blustery wind whipped Emma's  
brown hair into her face. The wind was also pushing giant thunderclouds into the blue sky.  
"Steed, I'm frightened, and that's not easy for me to say. Since my father's death, I've been  
alone-so very alone. I have no one to talk to, no one to assure me that everything terrible that is  
happening to me will pass." Emma Knight shook her head, partly in despair and partly to get her  
hair out of her eyes, but the breeze continued to play with it.  
  
"I thought you were an independent spirit who didn't need anybody to lean upon."  
  
"I am, but I still need a friend or a father to confide in. It doesn't help to tell your fears to yourself.  
Steed, I don't want to stay here anymore, not with all these bizarre and threatening incidences."   
  
"Oh Emma," Steed placed comforting arms around the desperate woman, "All this fear will pass;  
no one will hurt you."  
  
Emma buried her head into John's brawny but soft shoulder, inhaling his cologne. "If only I could  
believe you, but I have such premonitions that you're keeping something from me." She lifted her  
head to gaze into her companion's greyish-blue eyes.   
  
"I'm not the enemy, and I will not harm you," Steed reassured her. He leaned forward, his lips  
trying to find hers, but the Powers that Be would not have any of those flirtations.   
  
At that moment, thunder clapped followed by pouring rain. "On the day when we get rain, I've left  
my brolly in my hotel room!" Steed cried as he turned up the collar on his brown suit coat.   
  
"We're stuck in this maze!" Emma cried in awareness. The two looked at each other,  
flabbergasted, then burst into a peal of laughter.   
  
They began slipping on the wet grass as they tried to find their way out. "I think it's this way."  
Steed pointed to the right.  
  
"No I'm certain it's to the left," Miss Knight declared loudly over the sound of the torrential  
downpour.  
  
"If we go that way, we'll surely be lost forever!" protested Mr. Steed.  
  
Emma's brown eyes flashed indignantly as she insisted, "If you want to go the other way, that's  
fine with me, but don't blame when you drown to death in the rain."  
  
"I strongly suggest that we don't split up just in case of an accident, like a sprained ankle." Steed  
dragged the objecting Emma down the right path. After several turns, it became apparent that  
they were back to where they started.  
  
"Well, do you want to venture down the left path, or do you want to try the right path again?"  
Emma asked, smiling smugly at being correct. Steed stared at her sheepishly before he followed  
her down the left trail.  
  
To Be Continued!  
  
  
Note: Thanks to my loyal readers for being so patient as I got over my writer's block! I'm  
especially grateful to my two muses, Search for the Leprechaun and Alexis Rockford. 


	6. Second Afternoon

Second Afternoon  
  
  
John and Emma slid down the muddy grass never slowing until they saw the opening in front of them. They stepped out of the maze and perceived a flowing brook in front of them. Having both visited the horse stables earlier, they realised that the maze finished near one of the riding paths. The two crossed the small brook and ventured up the trail.  
  
As soon as they reached one of the many barns they rushed inside. Once safe from the driving rain, they examined each other for the first time. Emma's dress clung tightly to her slim finger, her skin showing through certain portions of the flimsy material. Her usually curled hair hung limply by her face, and her shoes squished every time she moved. Steed's suit was darker in colour from absorbing all the water, while his curly dark hair was slicked back.  
  
Miss Knight and Steed stared at each other before bursting into good-natured laughter. They sunk into a pile of hay, guffawing at the ridiculous situation. All of Emma's worries were forgotten as they lay there watching the horses, the horses eyeing them in return.   
  
"We really should get out of these wet clothes," Steed remarked sagaciously.  
  
"What do you suggest we put on while we're waiting for our apparel to dry?" Emma didn't wait for any off-colour reply but continued, "There's a blacksmith shop in the next stable over. Maybe we can dry over clothes over the fire where they make horseshoes."  
  
Steed stood up to examine a cabinet over on the other end of the barn. "And we can dress in the riding clothes that are in this cupboard." He brought several woman outfits over to Miss Knight so she could choose the correct size.   
  
After this procedure was done, Emma found an empty horse stall and said, "You check out the blacksmith's while I change in this stall."  
  
Steed acquiesced and ducked into the pouring shower, making his way to the blacksmith's next door. When Emma Knight was certain John Steed was not going to return at any moment, she entered the stall. Though it did add more protection than if she was dressing in the open, it still was not enough to hide herself from roaming eyes.  
  
Steed returned in ten minutes, informed her that there was a billowing fire in the shop, and then he went into the stall to change while Emma left to place her clothes over the fire. She hung her dress and nylons over an iron bar that ran parallel across the ceiling over the flames. It wasn't a huge roaring fire like in a hearth, but it would eventually dry her apparel enough sp she could put it back on without fear of becoming ill.  
  
In fifteen minutes, she and Steed were seated on another pile of hay in the blacksmith's shop. They looked quite bizarre in riding clothes minus the boots. They chatted affably, the fire's glow reflected on their faces and in their eyes.  
  
"I don't feel afraid any more, and I even wonder why I had such terror to begin with." Emma hugged her knees, deep in meditation.  
  
"Even the strongest of men becomes frightened at one time or another," Steed said assuredly. "In the last twenty-four hours, you have been faced with more than one enemy. That can be rather overwhelming, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"I still don't understand what Putnam and his men want from me! I told them I wouldn't sell; yet they persist in their infernal scheme to drive me mad! Some of these men are strangers who know nothing about me except that I'm pretty and can win a battle albeit an unfair one like last night's."  
  
"You're not just pretty, Miss Knight; you're gorgeous." Steed nearly whispered the words as he leaned toward his companion's ear.  
  
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Steed," Emma told him saucily, but as she spoke, a smirk spread across her lips.  
  
"Oh well, it never hurts to try." Steed cleared his throat before continuing, "If anyone should be worried for their safety it's Putnam and his gang. After seeing how you whipped them soundly yesterday, they may realise how hard it is to get rid of you."   
  
Emma Knight admitted it was more than likely, and Steed couldn't refrain from asking, "I know what you do to unfamiliar persons who try to harm you, but what would you do to a stranger who tried to kiss you?"  
  
"I would kick, chop, hit, and scratch him until he learned not to toy with me." Seeing John Steed's face falling in disappointment, she added dulcetly, "I don't consider you a stranger."  
  
The last remark was all the encouragement Steed needed. Smiling, he leaned into Emma's face, while she tilted her head back. Their lips swiftly and tentatively met before they broke apart. They seemed to like the feel of the kiss, for their lips once more caressed each other, this time passionately. As Emma placed two trusting arms around Steed, he ran his fingers through her damp hair. Still kissing Miss Knight, Steed pushed forward until they were lying down in the hay.   
  
Emma quickly freed herself from the position and sat upright. "I'm not ready for that."  
  
"Truth be told, neither am I," Steed confessed as he stood up. All at once he was extremely uncomfortable, and it wasn't just because he had straw in his shirt.  
  
Emma Knight lay back in the hay, thankful that Steed did not join her. Suddenly, she was tired and confused, more so than earlier when she had nearly been killed. Hoping that sleep would come and relieve her troubled mind, she closed her eyes. As she drifted into a slumber, Steed eased down next to her and placed a protective arm around her. Too tired to complain, Emma snuggled next to him before promptly falling asleep.  
  
John Steed watched the beautiful and elegant woman for a while before he gently removed his arm from her shoulder and stood up again. He gazed out the open door to the gloomy outside, not seeing or hearing, just thinking. He was interrupted from his contemplation by the sound of two cars driving up. Instinctively, he buried Emma and himself in the pile of hay she was reposing on. Much to his relief, Miss Knight continued to nap. He didn't know how he would explain their having to hide if she was to awaken.  
  
Oliver Putnam entered the building with a woman Steed recognised as being one of the receptionists at the palace. "I told you not to follow me around, Jean! You're going to give our whole operation away if you aren't careful."  
  
"I thought all the workers at the castle were on our side," the bubbly blonde retorted.  
  
"Only half work for us; the rest are just innocent bystanders. Now what you have to say had better be important, because I was on my way to the dungeon when you started following me."  
  
"I don't see why you couldn't just go to the dungeon."  
  
"I didn't want anybody to see me since it might be a bit conspicuous if two cars went off the road into the brush! Now what did you want to tell me?"  
  
"I photographed Miss Knight's signature from the hotel registration. I even got the film developed for you!" Jean handed a roll of film over to Mr. Putnam.  
  
"I'll have my men start working on it right away." With that ambiguous message, Putnam exited the building, Jean trailing him like an infatuated puppy.  
  
Steed flailed his arms, trying to get the prickly hay off Emma and him. When they were no longer hidden in the straw, Steed lightly tapped Emma Knight on the shoulder. "It's time to rise and shine, Miss Knight."  
  
Emma stretched and yawned before clambering to her feet. It was then that Miss Knight and Mr. Steed noticed that the rain has ceased and the sun had broken through the clouds. As they watched the luminous ball shine its rays on the muddy grounds, two stablemen entered the blacksmith's shop.  
  
"What are you doing here and why are you in riding apparel?" the first man asked.  
  
Emma readily answered, "We came to rent two horses for the afternoon. We got a little drenched, so we put are clothes up to dry. I hope you aren't offended."  
  
The two strangers believed the enchanting Miss Knight. They offered Steed and her the best horses to ride, told them the best paths to traverse, and promised to clean and dry their street clothes before they returned.  
  
Emma enjoyed riding the sleek chestnut, and John liked the feisty but manageable appaloosa, but due to Miss Knight's side injury, they had to stop to rest every ten minutes. The two thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. They discussed trivial and important matters, the romantic episode in the barn pushed to the back of their minds but not entirely forgotten.  
  
All too soon, their two hours were up, and they returned to the stables. The men had their outfits cleaned, so Miss Knight and Mr. Steed hurriedly dressed before going on their way. It was a quiet trip back to the castle, the silence calming their agitated minds and nerves. Halfway back to the hotel Emma placed her hand in Steed's, who was very surprised at this exceedingly affectionate gesture.  
  
"I have the vaguest suspicion we're going to be visiting each other quite often once we're back in London," Steed remarked.  
  
Miss Knight didn't feel she needed to respond to this comment. She merely clung to his hand nonchalantly, swinging it back and forth. When they reached the croquet grounds, she released her grip. Much to Steed's regret, Emma had reverted to her normal detached and independent self. They bid adieu, planning to meet later for supper in the grand hall where Emma had eaten the first night.   
  
Steed serenely entered his hotel room where David Keel was waiting on his bed. "Robinson called and wanted to inform you that a chap named Gregory Boon died of undisclosed causes." Keel tossed the medical book he was reading aside.  
  
"Did Robinson say anything else?"   
  
"Just that Boon signed papers before he died, handing his business over to Putnam's Plastic and Co."  
  
"Now Oliver Putnam has control of plastics, firearms, and tracking devices," Steed mused aloud. "Somehow he and his men are kidnapping the men here, taking them to the dungeon, forcing them to sign papers, and then murdering them." Steed began pacing nervously while Keel continued to relax on his friend's bed.   
  
"Where is this dungeon?" David finally asked.  
  
"It's located somewhere in the brush," Steed snapped his fingers, "of course, by the end of the driveway where all the businessmen disappeared. Keel, would you mind taking a look at downstairs at the receptionist?"  
  
"What does a receptionist have to do with a dungeon and driveways?"   
  
"I saw Putnam in the barn with her, handing over Miss Knight's signature." Steed and Keel exchanged looks as this thought sunk into the heads. "They're forging signatures in order to gain control of the businesses!"  
  
"Don't you think some of the workers at the corporations would be suspicious if their boss, who was so animate about not selling his business during his life, gives it away on his deathbed?" Dr. Keel queried his associate.  
  
"I still need several pieces of the puzzle to make it complete." Steed gestured for his friend to be on his way, but Keel remained where he was.  
  
"I wanted to apologise for my callous behaviour earlier today. I shouldn't have scolded you, especially when it's just because I'm jealous that you've found many women to fill the emptiness in your heart while I still cling to Peggy."  
  
"I was wrong though, just as you said," Steed replied quietly. "She loves me; I don't know why or how, but she does. I thought I would be pleased with this discovery, for after all, this is what I wanted to begin with. But I'm just befuddled and disappointed-not with her-but with myself. Can you prescribe anything for my confused heart, Doctor?"  
  
Keel shook his head slowly, an idea forming that he would have completely dismissed several days ago. Looking at his companion's face, Dr. Keel saw a spark in the eyes and a change in the mien that weren't extremely noticeable but was still present. He recollected how altered he had been when he had fallen in love with Peggy, and he couldn't help wondering if John Steed had become a victim of his own trap.  
  
Steed meanwhile wondered if he would ever tell Emma the truth, or if he should keep silent. Would she stay by his side if she knew he was a secret agent whose life was always in danger? Would something come of this relationship, or was this love affair doomed from the start?  
  
  
To Be Continued! 


	7. Second Night

Second Night  
  
  
David Keel entered the lobby and marched directly over to the receptionist desk.   
  
Jean, the receptionist who was at the barn, was conversing with someone on the phone. "I assure you, Mr. Lanier, we have everything under control. You will have full authority over the company when we are done." She glanced at Keel and continued, "I can't say more right now; goodbye."  
  
David Keel spoke angrily as he said, "I would like to file a complaint."  
  
"What seems to be the matter with it?"  
  
"There is a terrible draft in my room."   
  
"Do you want another room, Sir?" Jean enquired imperturbably.  
  
"Yes, if it can be arranged." Keel tried not to smile as he thought of his marvelous acting job. He pretended to be surprised as he added, "I say, did I see you by the stables earlier today?"  
  
Jean froze with fear as she answered, "No, I-I was never by the stables-I hate horses."  
  
David shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "I must have mistook you for someone else."   
  
The receptionist quavered as she said, "It appears all the rooms are booked except the King and Queen suites. I'll go speak to my manager to see if there is any possible way we can fix the draft in your room." Jean entered a room that was directly behind the check in counter.   
  
Seated lazily at a table were Putnam, Cunningham and Henderson. "What seems to be the problem?" Henderson asked.  
  
"A gentleman is complaining about his accommodations, but there are no more available hotel rooms except the more expensive suites. I told him the manager would be able to help." Jean gazed imploringly at Henderson.  
  
"Well, now that the manager is indisposed, I believe I just got the job." Mr. Henderson pointed to the inert body of a man sprawled on the floor behind the table.  
  
Jean gasped as she cried, "Why did you kill him?"  
  
"He was getting too suspicious," Cunningham replied serenely. "He wanted to know why all these renown businessmen were dying after they paid a visit to his castle. He also was curious as to why we were always hanging around here and talking to you, Jean."  
  
"We couldn't let him catch on to our plan. He might ask for money to keep silent," added Putnam gravely.  
  
"Miss, where are you?" called Dr. Keel from the lobby.  
  
Cunningham peeped out the door at the oblivious doctor and snarled, "You fool, that man was with Steed and Miss Knight!" He grasped Jean's arm harshly as he declared, "He's probably spying on us!"  
  
"I told you someone would see you when you followed me to the stables this afternoon!" Putnam whispered shrilly. "What if he knows something valuable?"  
  
Jean blanched as she murmured, "I was on the phone with Lanier when Keel arrived at the desk."   
  
Cunningham struck the receptionist across the face with a violent blow. "You're going to ruin everything for us. We've almost gained control of all of these companies!"  
  
"We've got to get rid of Keel before he reports to Steed!" pronounced Mr. Henderson.  
  
"Jean, you distract him, and I'll take him to the dungeons," Putnam ordered the whimpering girl.  
  
Trying to smile through her tears, the receptionist went back to the lobby. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do for you, sir.   
  
"This is intolerable; I want to leave at once!" David exclaimed, letting his ruse carry him away.   
  
"If that is your wish, I can quite understand."  
  
Keel was caught in a dilemma that couldn't easily be solved. Should he just change his mind, proving either he was a fickle man or someone putting on an act? Or should he resolve to leave and then sneak back later? He decided on the latter, and in fifteen minutes he was driving away in his car.  
  
As he got near the end of the long drive, Keel spotted a man lying limply by the side of the road. Unbeknownst to the doctor, the man was infamous Oliver Putnam. Being the compassionate physician that he was, Keel hopped out of his auto to investigate the grisly scene. He stooped over the inert body, feeling for a pulse. The man was alive, but he was not conscious.   
  
It was at this critical moment that Keel was rendered unconscious by an unknown object. He slumped to the ground next to Putman, who clambered to his feet.  
  
"An excellent acting job," Henderson complimented his boss. He tossed a heavy wrench into the back seat of Keel's vehicles. The two criminals dragged Keel into the backseat as well. Then they hopped into the front and drove into the cattails out of sight.  
  
They soon arrived at the dungeon, a dilapidated stone building with iron bars all over the façade. Putnam and Henderson carried the doctor into the dungeon and placed him in a grungy cell. To the left and right of him were Carton and Haley, the two remaining businessmen.  
  
*********  
  
Emma Knight was a bundle of agitated nerves that evening. Half of her yearned to see Steed again, while the other side of her wished to have nothing to do with him if it involved a short romance that could never work. She played over her options in her head countless times only to become more disconcerted than before.   
  
If she surrendered to this love, what freedoms would she have? Would she have to destroy her emancipated side and depend on John for protection and care? Would she have to give up her father's business, forsake her old acquaintances; in short, be a slave to this man? Was this how true love worked, to have the man get all the benefits and none of the responsibilities while the woman obeyed his every whim, belonging solely to him and no other? In other words, was this the sort of relationship she wanted?  
  
Emma was positive Steed had no inclination to get married, but she wasn't certain of her own feelings on the subject. Was she the type of independent woman who could tie herself down to one man for the rest of her life? She didn't know, but somehow she had to find the answer.   
  
Then there was the question of Steed's honesty. How many times had he lied to her; was he still living in a charade? Was Steed the enemy as she had suspected at first? Was he trying to win her love so she would be off guard? And who was this Dr. David Keel who had arrived a short while ago? Emma did not want to go to dinner with Steed, but having already given her word she had no choice. It was not like a Knight to back down on a promise!   
  
Miss Knight attired herself in a sleeveless mint green dress with three silver stripes near the hem. The dress had a deep neckline trimmed in the same metallic cloth as the bands on the skirt. To finish the apparel, she donned white dress shoes with sparkly silver bows. She flipped her auburn tresses up in her usual fashion and slicked back the hair around her face. After applying a pale lipstick to her mouth, brushing on some rose coloured blush, and highlighting her eyelashes with mascara, she exited her hotel room.  
  
She slowly clomped down each stair to the lobby. It sounded like she was marching to her own graveside, her footsteps the steady beat of a dirge. When she spotted Steed, she inhaled and exhaled deeply as she told herself, "You must keep cool, Emma." She unconsciously snapped her fingers in an irritating way that could make the cruelest opponent stark mad.  
  
John was dashing in his black pinstripe suit, but then he almost always was dapper. He beamed gregariously at his gorgeous dinner date even though he was filled with trepidation. He had made this poor woman fall in love with him, and he had no idea why he felt so guilty. Furthermore, Keel had not returned from his investigation, which usually indicated that the good doctor was in mortal danger. But Steed kept his distraught emotions under a veneer of politeness and collectiveness.  
  
"Shall we go in the dinner hall, Miss Knight?" Steed extended his warm hand for the lady to clasp.  
  
Emma recoiled at his gentle behaviour. There was something disturbing about his mien, almost as if he was concealing turbulent thoughts. Unfortunately for Steed, Miss Emma Knight could read his mannerisms and feelings all too well. "Are you hiding something from me?" she blurted before she could control herself.   
  
John, taken aback by this demand, stuttered a reply. "I-I'm just concerned about my friend, Dr. Keel, who seems to have disappeared." He laughed-nervously-in an attempt to calm their fears. He once more tried to take his lady friend's hand, but she refused.  
  
"I don't want to go to the dinner hall; too many people." Emma was growing cross as she added, "I don't want to eat at all if that's all right with you. I don't even know why I dressed in this bloody gown since I just want to stay in my room all evening."  
  
"Then don't eat," Steed snapped. Bystanders were beginning to stare at the estranged couple. Steed tried to remain serene as he continued, "I'll accompany to your room if you wish, Emma."  
  
"What I wish is for you not to call me by my Christian name." With that last cantankerous remark, Emma flounced up the stairs.  
  
Steed smiled embarrassedly at the spectators before he pursued the uncharacteristically petulant Emma Knight. He ran after her, calling Emma by her first name despite her order. He soon reached her room and didn't think before barging in. "What the devil is going on with you?"  
  
"Really, Mr. Steed, with that attitude you will accomplish absolutely nothing." Emma perched herself in the uncomfortable chair, her eyes riveted on the ambiguous gentleman in front of her.   
  
"I thought you cared for me," Steed continued pitifully. "I thought you loved me."  
  
"Would it wound your male ego if you discovered I had no feelings for you whatsoever?"  
  
"It would, but I know that it is a boldfaced lie."  
  
"You certainly know a lot about telling falsehoods, don't you Mr. Steed?" Emma watched her companion's hazel eyes for a reaction.  
  
"I have no idea what you are implying by that, Miss Knight." Steed crossed his arms defiantly, daring her to respond, which she did accordingly.  
  
"All you have ever told me is lies, I'll bet. You don't love me, so why should I love you?" Emma was on the verge of tears-tears of frustration and sorrow.  
  
"Just answer me one question: do you love me?" Steed's insolence was replaced by curiosity and concern.  
  
"Yes," Emma convulsed between sobs, "and I wish to God I didn't."   
  
Steed was about to utter, "I thought as much," but at the last moment he decided against it. It was also at this moment that the phone rang. Miss Knight hurriedly wiped away unshed tears before picking up the telephone.   
  
"Miss Knight, is Mr. Steed there?" came an unidentifiable male voice.  
  
Emma handed the phone to Steed without a word. "Steed, here," John spoke into the handset.   
  
"Mr. Steed, this is Putnam. If you ever want to see your friend alive, I suggest you leave the premises immediately. Do not associate with Miss Knight any more, or she and your friend will both die." The phone made a clicking sound and then the dial tone resonated in his ear.  
  
Steed slammed the phone in its cradle and cursed inaudibly. "Keel, you rushed in where Steeds and angels fear to tread again."  
  
Emma noted him suspiciously as she asked, "What are you talking about, Steed?" When her companion did not answer, she demanded, "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"  
  
"I will not harm you if that's what you're afraid of."  
  
"Stop avoiding my questions!" Miss Knight hissed in desperation and anger. "I've already verified that you don't work for the secretary of a secretary of a Member of Parliament, and I'm absolutely certain Lanier did not send you to protect me. So did Putnam hire you to frighten me out of my wits, because if he did, you're doing a darn good job!"  
  
"Do you really distrust me that much that you don't know if I'm your friend or not?" Steed's hurt countenance changed to a look of entreaty. "Oh Emma, please trust me." He enveloped the young woman in an embrace.  
  
"I want to, but you've lied to me so many times, I don't know if I can." Emma breathed in the scent of his cologne, wishing every moment wasn't as bewildering as this. True, she had wanted more excitement, but not knowing who was her friend and who was her enemy was far from what she had desired.   
  
Steed realised that he must explain the real facts, or he would risk losing Miss Knight's respect forever. It was a possibility that he had already lost her confidence and high regard. "Emma," he began tentatively, "I must tell you the truth, even with all the consequences it might bring." He held her at arm's length as he continued, "I am an-I do work for the government as I stated before."  
  
Emma felt the breath go out of her body as an idea registered in her already befuddled brain. "You-are you a spy?"  
  
Steed nodded his head numbly as he murmured, "Yes, I am a secret agent for a ministry."  
  
Miss Knight's vision clouded over as she grasped the meaning of his sentence. She had fallen in love with a spy, a man who could be killed at any moment, a man who could put her life in danger! She had given her heart away for the first time since she was a teenager, and she had gotten involved with a ministry man of all professions! Emma believed it would have been better if she grown attached to a professional marrier, or a gold digger, anything besides a spy! The only thing worse than an agency man was a criminal.   
  
Without thinking she started packing her suitcases with all her clothes. I'm leaving as soon as I can, she told herself.  
  
Steed gently interrupted her panicked thoughts by saying, "I was sent to protect you after four other business tycoons disappeared while staying at this resort. We believe that this Putnam wants something from all these companies, maybe to make a indestructible ship to wreak havoc on our British ports and threaten our nation."  
  
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much. As you recall, I fought off three men yesterday without your aide." Emma's voice was as icy and cold as Antarctica during a blizzard. She hurriedly stuffed the rest of her belongings in the two luggage bags before placing them by the door.  
  
"Listen, you," Steed grabbed her arms with as much force as he could muster, "your life is in mortal danger, and if you don't watch out you could find yourself very dead."  
  
"I think you put me in the most danger, parading around like you owned the world, showing up when I was in the most trouble." Emma yanked herself out of his clasp as she added, "I was doing all right in protecting myself until you arrived on the scene, stole my heart and broke it all in two very short days. Now I'm so discombobulated I can't tell what makes sense and what doesn't." She started pacing the floor, but turned to face her new adversary with venom in her brown eyes. "If anyone is going to get me murdered, it will be you John Steed."  
  
Steed's face grew ashen and then turned the brightest shade of vermilion that Emma had ever witnessed. He tried to compose himself as he declared, "I believe you need to relax and have some supper." He gently grasped her arm, but Emma used a karate move that soon had him in her clutches with her arm across his neck.  
  
However, John Steed was an expert in fighting techniques. In less than a minute he had thrown Emma over his shoulders onto her bed. Miss Knight sputtered indignantly as she tried to regain control over her own body, which was sprawled unbecomingly across her mattress. She brushed her hair of her face as she tried to rise to her feet, but Steed abruptly pushed her down.  
  
"Oh Emma," he began in a ruthless tone she had never heard before, "You shouldn't ever mess with an agent, or you will find yourself over your head."  
  
"I know exactly what I'm doing," was the saucy reply. Once again Emma Knight tried to stand up only to be impolitely shoved back down on the bed.  
  
"If you leave, Putnam and his men will kidnap you."   
  
"That's a chance I will have to take, now isn't it?"  
  
"I won't let you do this to yourself, not while I have life left in my body," Steed practically threatened her.  
  
"Isn't that just so unfortunate for you," Miss Knight retorted. "Every second you keep me here you make me despise you even more."  
  
"Making you hate me is the last thing on my mind."  
  
"Then if you care for me, let me leave this hotel and make sure you never see me again."  
  
"I think you just need to relax, and then maybe you'll be able to think more reasonably," Steed suggested coyly as he fiddled with her hair. He was about to place an amorous kiss on her lips when Emma jabbed him in his ribs with he elbow. While Steed was doubled over in pain, Miss Knight grabbed her key off her nightstand, snatched up her two suitcases, and dashed downstairs.  
  
Steed shook himself, trying to ignore the throbbing in his body. He quickly followed Emma out the door; he mustn't let her escape!  
  
  
To Be Continued! 


	8. really early Fourth Day

Fourth Day  
  
  
David Keel revived to find himself in a dark and dank world, one that reeked of mildew and the smell of sweat. He tried to place where he was but found it futile until he noticed the rusty iron bars in front of him. He had inadvertently found the castle's dungeon!  
  
David heard the sound of advancing footsteps, and then Mr. Putnam arrived with a pistol in his hand. He released the man who was in the cell to Keel's left. The man, addressed by the name of Carton, was ordered to sit in a crude wooden chair that looked almost as old as the establishment.  
  
David Keel watched in interest as a third man entered the building, a look of unmitigated evil in his steely eyes. Mr. Carton rose to his feet in alarm and shouted, "Paine, what are you doing at this castle? Do you know why I'm being held a prisoner?"  
  
Paine smiled evenly despite the rapid questions being hurled at him. "As vice-president of your corporation, soon to be president, I thought it would be most befitting to watch your demise."  
  
"My . . . what?" Carton's eyes nearly bulged from his sockets as this gruesome idea sunk into his already addled brain.  
  
"You've been holding the reigns too long, Carton; it's time for someone else to be in control." Mr. Paine paused before commencing his dialogue, "You see, Putnam is going to buy out our company, keeping on all the old workers, but combining our work with their plastics. Unfortunately, you are going to die, handing over the presidency to me."  
  
"You overlooked one important factor: I haven't signed my name to any paper." Mr. Carton gloated as well as he could under the circumstances.  
  
"Actually, that's not at all true." Mr. Paine removed a folder from his jacket pocket and handed it to Putnam. "The rest of the board reluctantly agreed to your terms after they saw Mr. Carton's signature approving the merger."  
  
"But I tell you I didn't sign any documents!" Mr. Carton cried in desperation.   
  
Putnam grinned nefariously as he replied, "No, you did not, but my men forged your signature so well that it fooled everyone."  
  
"Where did you ever get my name?"  
  
"We photographed it after you signed your name to the hotel registration. And now, no further questions, Mr. Carton; it's time for you to die." Putnam raised the silenced pistol in his had and fired two times right at the businessman's heart.  
  
The deceased Mr. Carton crumpled to the floor with an ominous "thud." Paine gloated wickedly for several seconds before helping Putnam drag the body outside to a previously dug grave. They return after a short duration only to discover Dr. Keel staring piteously at them.  
  
Paine looked panic stricken as he observed the good doctor for the first time. "He's not going to squeal on me and my crime, is he?"  
  
Putnam calmly shook his head as he answered, "No, this stranger is going to die like the rest of them." He silenced the sniveling Haley, who was in the prison cell to Keel's right. He turned to Mr. Paine and said, "Now, you do understand our terms. If you die, I become the president of the company."  
  
"I still think your conditions are the oddest and most complicated I have ever heard of."  
  
"Nevertheless, you have agreed to them, and that is how they will remain."   
  
"Well, you are certain that no one will discover that I hired you to dispose of Carton."  
  
"Our plan is as fool-proof as can be. You see, Mr. Carton was into explosives. We'll just blow up the body, call it an accident, and there will be no remains for the doctors to examine." Putnam smoothly changed the subject by commenting politely, "Enjoy your new life as a president, Mr. Carton." The inflection in his voice turned to absolute menace as he added, "It will be a short career."   
  
Not heeding the sputtering of his companion, Mr. Putnam pointed the gun at the abashed Paine's head and pulled the trigger. "Now you and your friend Carton will have an accident with explosives."  
  
Keel's head was spinning from the events that had just occurred. Putnam was tricking these men by promising to murder their superior officers so that they could be in command of the businesses. But in reality, Putnam was using them to gain control of the corporations for his own devious plans! Someone must have put a death warrant on Miss Knight, but who? Not knowing her history, it was impossible to come to any feasible conclusions.  
  
The despicable Mr. Oliver Putnam interrupted David Keel from his musings. "You seem to be deep in thought, sir, but I wouldn't worry too much. It won't really matter in a few hours what is going on around here." He patted his weapon assuredly as the doctor tried to remain serene.  
  
**************  
  
Miss Knight hurriedly explained to the receptionist that she wanted to check out immediately. Jean assured her it was no difficulty, and Emma began the tedious task of paying for her stay. She was in too much of a rush to go through the motions of writing a check, so she pulled out several hundred pounds from her purse. There certainly were advantages to being wealthy.  
  
Jean pretended to become flustered as she said, "Oh, it appears I don't have any change! I apologise, but I'm afraid I'll have to go in the back room and retrieve some from our safe." She entered the door directly behind her and approached the reposing figure of Cunningham. She shook him lightly before she whispered, "Miss Emma Knight is leaving the castle!"  
  
Mr. Cunningham jumped to his feet and immediately slipped out a door that had been hidden in the shadows. Running at Godspeed, it wasn't long before he reached the dungeon. Mr. Cunningham quickly informed the situation to Putnam before they both headed out to the point on the drive where they always abducted their victims.  
  
Meanwhile, Jean returned to the counter where she dealt out the correct amount of change to the impatient Miss Knight. It was then that Emma realised she had no means of transportation because her car was out of commission. "How long does it take for a taxi cab to get here?" she enquired.  
  
Jean looked up with interest as she replied, "Oh, it takes at least twenty minutes, but if you're in such a great hurry we can have one of our own drivers take you to your destination or at least halfway." Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the phone and dialed a number that was definitely not for an imaginary driver. In fact, it was for the Palace stables where Henderson was hiding until he received further instructions.  
  
Jean spoke nonchalantly as she told him, "Get a car ready to drive a Miss Emma Knight."  
  
"You mean you want me to pretend to be chauffeuring this bird when in truth I'll be taking her to her doom?" Henderson asked.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean." Jean gently hung up the phone to face her oblivious enemy. "He will arrive presently for you, Miss Knight."  
  
Emma was about to express her gratitude when Steed approached her. "Are you completely out of your mind, Miss Knight?" he hissed.  
  
"I think you are the one who is insane," she snapped. "I am leaving, and no one is going to stop me; not you, nor Putnam."  
  
"Your self-assurance is going to be your downfall."  
  
"Why are you so confident in that, Mr. Steed?"  
  
"Because vanity is my shortcoming as well and has gotten me into more tight situations than I ever needed to be involved in. Face it, Emma, were are two of a kind, two peas in a pod, birds of a feather . . ."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me that we think alike?" Emma asked sarcastically. She hefted her two suitcases and headed toward the front door. She was surprised when Steed brushed past her, entering the car park. She didn't have long to dwell on it because her "ride" had pulled up to the stop.   
  
"Are you Miss Knight?" a cockney voice called from the window.  
  
"Yes, I am; please take me to the nearest bus stop," Emma returned as she placed her baggage and herself in the back of the auto. The darkness prevented her from distinguishing the features of her driver, or she would have recognised the man as being Henderson.  
  
Mr. Henderson deftly maneuvered his way through the parking lot and turned onto the driveway. From his vantage point in his own car, Steed watched Miss Knight drive away with a man he was certain was a criminal. John Steed quickly followed the car down the gravel drive. To ensure that no one noticed him, he kept his headlights off.  
  
When Henderson's car rounded a bend, Emma and he spotted Putnam lying immobile on the ground. Henderson slammed his foot on the brakes, and swerved off into a ditch. Whether this was intentional or not was an enigma. Steed also had to brake his rusty auto, but fortunately, the sound of the other car drowned out his preventing possible attention.  
  
Miss Knight groaned as she was slammed onto her left side. Now she had been in two car accidents, and both of her sides were injured! However, she knew she must help the poor man who evidently was in a much worse position than she. Emma Knight exited the vehicle and approached the inert body. It was when she was a foot from him that she discovered her vast mistake. This man was the perverse Putnam, not a harmless victim.   
  
She turned around to retreat but was confronted by her chauffeur who was actually one of Oliver Putnam's cohorts. She glared at him, her brown eyes mere slits in her head. As Henderson came at her with a wrench, she deftly dove to the right. Soon he was on top of her, but Emma took this moment to punch him in the stomach with her knee. Much to her glee, the wrench fell from his hands onto his own right foot.  
  
She crouched to retrieve the heavy object and used it to smash his brawny hands. Enraged, Henderson began kicking her in the shins with his uninjured foot. Emma's nylons tore as the heavy onslaught continued. She quickly rolled on the gravel ground, evading his attacks. Unfortunately, both of her sides disagreed with her plan; she bit her lip to stop from screaming.  
  
Oliver Putnam rose from his spot on the ground and joined the pummeling of Emma Knight. Kicking the ground near where she was sitting, he stirred up enough dust and gravel to make Miss Knight sneeze and cough. Emma's eyes began to sting as the dirt filled them, blinding her momentarily. She raised her hands to check the rest of the heavy blows that were being hurled at her from the two men. Her lovely evening dress was grimy from blood, sweat, and dirt.   
  
Emma whipped off both of her shoes and threw them blindly at her two opponents. The objects missed both of their targets, and landed ungracefully several feet away. At that moment, they sailed back and hit the men squarely in the head. John Steed appeared, a look of pure contempt on his face. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, men?"  
  
Henderson and Putnam began to laugh amusedly at this comment. As they were chortling hysterically, Emma slowly rose to her feet and practised two kung fu moves on them that sent them flying to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Miss Knight was about to thank Steed, her saviour, when Cunningham emerged from a clump of cattails.  
  
"The reason they were laughing is because they knew I was hidden," Mr. Cunningham exclaimed. He grabbed Emma by the wrist, but before Steed could take five steps, he pulled a revolver out of his pocket. "Move one step, and Miss Knight dies instantly." He vigorously placed the gun to her bedraggled head.  
  
"Steed, just let him take me," Emma resignedly told the distraught spy. Cunningham pushed her down a well-trodden path before Steed could even respond.  
  
To Be Continued! 


	9. In the Dungeon

In the Dungeon  
  
  
John Steed stood in the same spot for what seemed an interminable time. He was stunned that he had been conquered and even more astounded that Emma had accepted the defeat so elegantly. He shook his head from his perturbed thoughts and quietly sneaked down the path after Miss Knight.   
  
In ten minutes he head reached the infamous dungeon. He arrived just in time to hear a gunshot followed by the sound of someone falling to the floor. Had Emma just been murdered? Steed ran as quickly as he could to the door, but as he reached the entrance Cunningham came outside with a dead man. Steed ducked behind the building just at that exact moment, saving him from being discovered. As Cunningham hurriedly buried the body, Steed slipped into the dungeon.  
  
When his eyes had grown accustomed to the brightness, he perceived Dr. Keel and Miss Knight each in a stone cell. On a crude table was the gun that had killed all of the businessmen. Steed tried to advance toward his friends but tripped on the motionless body of Mr. Haley. "There seems to be an epidemic going around," he commented dryly, referring to all the dead men he had just observed.  
  
"Steed, Mr. Cunningham is coming back!" warned Emma in a drained voice.   
  
Steed whirled around, grabbed the pistol on the table, and aimed it at the entrance. When Mr. Cunningham stepped into view he was confronted by his own gun being held by an angry Steed! He cried out in alarm as a bullet slammed into his chest. Cunningham slumped to the ground, lifeless.  
  
Emma's voice shattered the unusual quiet that had settled over the building. "What took you so long to get here?" she joked.   
  
John Steed merely smiled grimly as an answer. He set the weapon down before he hurried over to the two cells. "Who were those two people?"  
  
"One of them was Mr. Haley, and the other was his vice-president," David explained.   
  
Satisfied at that answer, Steed enquired, "Are there any keys to unlock these gates?"   
  
"I believe Mr. Putnam has them on his person," Keel replied.   
  
"Well, we don't have time to return to Putnam and steal them." Steed glanced about himself before asking, "Do either of you have a pin of any kind?"  
  
"I have a tiepin that might work," David offered as he removed the item from his dark blue tie.  
  
Steed eagerly grabbed it through the bars and began working on Emma's jail cell. As he worked, Dr. Keel informed him of the diabolical plan of Oliver Putnam. "Haley, Carton, Miss Knight, etcetera were all the head of something. Most of the men were the bosses, while Miss Knight was the chairman of the board and managing director. At least one of their colleagues did not appreciate the fact that these men-and woman-had a higher station and more control over the business. They called on Putnam to dispose of the leaders so they could gain control of the companies.  
  
"However, Mr. Putnam duped them all by making the terms so specific, that if anything should happen to the new presidents, Mr. Putnam would gain control of the corporations. Consequently, when Putnam killed Mr. Carton for a Mr. Paine-"  
  
"Mr. Putnam also bumped off Paine," Steed finished thoughtfully. "So maybe Robinson was correct when he said that Putnam's Plastics was trying to make an indestructible ship." He managed to unlock Emma's door, so he went on to his friend's.  
  
Dr. Keel continued, "And you were absolutely accurate when you told me about the evil receptionist. She's the one who got me kidnapped and imprisoned." He snapped his finger as he added, "I also heard her talking on the phone to a man named Lanier, if that is important."  
  
Emma and John exchanged a knowing glance at this name. "You don't suppose Mr. Lanier wants you dead, Miss Knight?" Steed demanded agitatedly. He watched as Emma Knight stepped out of her confinement with an audible sigh of relief.  
  
"No of course not; he was interested in my welfare! When we received that advertisement for Millbury Castle, Nancy begged me to take a holiday, and Lanier-" Emma paused as the truth sunk in her brain, "told . . . me . . . to take TWO WEEKS OFF!" She scowled fiercely at the thought of any man wanting her to be dead, especially a person who had been treating her like a daughter. She realised too late that it had all been a clever ruse to put her at ease when she should have been the most alerted.  
  
"Now you know that I was definitely lying when I claimed Mr. Lanier had sent me to protect you," Steed joshed in an attempt to alleviate the gravity of the situation.   
  
Miss Knight rubbed her forehead as she detected the first symptoms of an aggravating headache. She realised her face was covered with dirt from the road. She was about to make a superficial remark about how filthy she was when Mr. Lanier entered the building.   
  
"Are you one of Mr. Putnam's men?" Lanier asked Steed.   
  
Steed slipped the pin onto his own necktie before twirling around to face the wicked man. "Yes, my name is John Steed."  
  
"I see that you've released Miss Knight so I can kill her. That was very thoughtful of you." Mr. Lanier picked up the gun that Steed had carelessly left on the table.   
  
"At the price you've paid for this operation, we strive to be as thoughtful as achievable," Steed replied smartly.   
  
"I just have one question: who is that man." Mr. Lanier pointed to the ground where Cunningham lay, his face a colour of blue.  
  
Steed, still a rather inexperienced spy, hesitated at this inquisition. It was in this brief duration that the more experienced Lanier discovered that John Steed was lying. "All right, I'm going to have the pleasure of disposing of all three of you," Lanier declared.  
  
Keel protested animatedly, "What have I done besides being a prisoner to a lot of insane men?"  
  
"I can't have you telling the authorities about my double murder," Lanier promptly replied.  
  
Emma determined to stall time by asking, "Why did you decide to kill me?"  
  
"You were a woman with a high position-imagine a twenty-one-year-old woman!"  
  
"I'll be twenty-two in a matter of days, Mr. Lanier," Emma countered.  
  
"I wish you a happy birthday, my dear," Steed exclaimed. Miss Knight thanked him politely as if she didn't care that Mr. Lanier was pointing a dangerous weapon at her. Steed admired her courage during this difficult circumstance; she certainly was a talented amateur agent!  
  
"You were always voting against of my plans, and the other board members would naturally follow you. After all, you were Sir John's daughter, so you must know what you're doing!" Lanier was venting his emotions, something he should have done months ago before he had taken desperate measures. "Now I will be in charge, now I will get my bills across, now you won't be able to stop me!"  
  
Emma Knight mulled over the information she had learned from Dr. Keel. "Putnam has tricked you by claiming you'll gain control of the company, when in reality he is going to kill you as well! He wants to build a ship of massive destruction that is unbreakable! He doesn't care about you and your personal problems! I know you despise the very ground I walk on, but you must believe me."  
  
"You're just trying to escape from my clutches," Lanier snorted in disbelief. "Do you have a last request before I kill you?"  
  
"Yes, I'd like to have a cigarette if I may," Steed said. After Lanier nodded his consent, he pulled out a carton of cigarettes and a box of matches from his coat pocket. He nodded his head so quickly that it was almost imperceptible to the eye, but Dr. Keel noticed it.  
  
With all the anxiety in his voice as he could muster, the doctor whispered audibly, "No, don't use those cigarettes, or you might blow us all to smithereens!"  
  
"At least Mr. Lanier will be dead as well," Steed hissed loudly in return. He lit the cigarette with the polished air he so rightly possessed.*  
  
Miss Knight had the vaguest suspicion that this was all a ploy to weaken Lanier's resistance. Using her own acting ability she feigned tears of horror and fear. "Either way you look at it, we're going to lose this game of espionage!"  
  
"Are you trying to tell me that this man is a spy?" demanded Lanier disbelievingly.  
  
"If you don't believe me, just look at the writing on my cigarette box." Steed extended his arm to show off the ludicrous jumble of letters printed on the carton. "It reads, 'highly explosive cigarettes; use at your own risk.' That message certainly is conclusive proof that I am an agent, isn't it Mr. Lanier?"  
  
The elderly businessman's confidence began to waver as he stared at the flickering flame of Steed's lit cigarette. "Why hasn't it exploded yet, Mr. Steed?"  
  
"These cigarettes only explode on contact, meaning I have to throw it against something for it to work." Steed flicked ashes from the cigarette butt while he waited for the crooked businessman's next move.  
  
Lanier shakily pointed the gun at the secret agent as he ordered, "You had better drop that weapon right now, or I will blow your brains out."  
  
"Did you have to use such graphic language?" John Steed admonished the older man. Quickly he added, "If you REALLY want me to drop this cigarette then I will." With that last remark, he flung the object high into the air.  
  
Lanier shrieked in alarm as the "explosive" landed several feet from him. He covered his ears in anticipation of the blast, but none came. He realised he had been duped, but before he could react, Steed was upon him, punching him in the jaw repeated times with one hand. Steed's free fist grabbed the weapon from the gnarled hand of his assailant and tossed it into oblivion.  
  
Emma Knight joined the brawl by chopping the nape of her co-worker's neck. As Lanier moaned from the sting, she grabbed his wrist and tossed him over her shoulder. Mr. Lanier's head hit the wooden table, knocking him out cold.  
  
Miss Knight gazed contemptuously at her enemy before declaring, "Mr. Lanier, after witnessing your outrageous behaviour this evening, I have decided that you are fired!"  
  
Just as Mr. Steed was about to release Keel from his imprisonment, Mr. Putnam entered the dungeon. So you've outwitted Mr. Lanier and killed Mr. Cunningham while I lay unconscious on the ground? I certainly have to give you credit for being quick and efficient."  
  
"While you're busy complimenting us may we escape?" Steed asked half seriously and half in jest.  
  
Oliver Putnam sneered as he replied, "I may be a fool for letting you beat me the first time, but I would be an idiot if I let you thrash me again." He motioned for Henderson, who had been hidden in the shadows, to join him. The two men did not produce firearms of any kind, so Steed construed that they were weaponless.   
  
Steed knew his only chance for conquering these madmen was if he found the gun Lanier had had in his possession. If Putnam or Henderson spotted the weapon and grabbed it, Emma, Keel's and his demise would be inevitable. John tried to keep his body completely immobile as he searched the room out of the corner of his eye for the coveted handgun. Finally he spotted it, hidden under the wooden table. He was about to make a quick dash for the weapon, but Henderson beat him to it.  
  
As Henderson pointed the gun at Steed's head, the young spy was filled with a feeling of utter dread. He turned to Miss Knight and said in a woebegone voice, "I'm sorry this didn't turn out differently for you, my dear. I was supposed to keep you from being killed, and I failed.  
  
"We aren't dead yet, Steed," Emma replied simply yet confidently. Inside she was as petrified as she had ever been in her life, but she also felt exhilarated at being part of something so tremendously dangerous. Was the life of an agent what she really wanted? She snapped out of her musings, realising that it wouldn't matter if she had found her vocation in life if she was about to be gunned down.  
  
She glanced lovingly at John Steed's face, wondering what sweet magic they could have created if they hadn't been caught . . . Stop it, Emma, she told herself. You are tough and can get out of this situation.   
  
Steed was pondering over similar reassuring thoughts but not believing one word of them. He swallowed around the huge lump that was forming in his throat. His fists curled and released, but he did not notice this. He only felt the pain in his soul at the idea of failing his mission-of not being able to protect the most wonderful woman he had ever met.  
  
"I want you to both turn around and put your arms in the air," ordered Putnam as he snatched the handgun from his assistant's hand. "I don't wish to see your sentimental expressions as you face your doom together."  
  
Emma and John did as they were instructed all while Dr. Keel stood in his jail cell, useless. In complete anguish, he envisioned the painful death that was in store for the three of them. That same weapon had already caused the deaths of several other businessmen . . . Suddenly Keel had a startling and pleasant revelation. In a boisterous tone he shouted, "Let me be the first to die!"  
  
Four heads turned in his direction. It was evident that everyone had forgotten about the doctor during the last tumultuous minutes. Putnam shrugged his shoulders before answering, "What do I care in which order I murder you?"  
  
Keel was released from his cell and pushed in the center of the room. He smiled serenely as Oliver Putnam pulled the trigger. To everyone's relative astonishment, the gun did not fire but made that familiar clicking noise that indicated the gun was not loaded! Marching over to his nemesis, David Keel said smugly, "I may be a doctor, but I have learned several things from Steed about firearms, particularly the gun you hold now. This model can only hold six bullets. You fired two at Carton and one at Paine, Haley, and his vice-president. While you were unconscious, Steed fired the sixth and last bullet at Mr. Cunningham." Dr. Keel's face was inches away from Mr. Putnam's. "So you see, I have outwitted you in this little game of murder and deception."  
  
Oliver Putnam was silent for a brief second and then hollered, "Henderson, grab a rifle from the cabinet over there." Of course he pointed directly at the mentioned cabinet, so Steed was able to stop Mr. Henderson.  
  
Steed grabbed the henchmen's collar and lifted him off his feet. Then he backed him into a stone wall, bashing his head several times in the process. Henderson shoved his fingers into Steed's in an attempt to gouge his eyes out. Steed let go of Henderson, sending him to the cold, hard floor. While his adversary was rubbing his head, Steed kicked him in the face. Henderson toppled over like a sack of potatoes-badly bruised potatoes-while Steed wiped some blood from a scrape he had received from the enemy.  
  
While John Steed was intent on smashing Mr. Henderson, Emma was in the process of beating Mr. Putnam. She used several Karate chops on his hand, forcing him to drop the empty weapon. She followed this maneuver by tossing him over her head with the greatest of ease. As he rose to his feet, she took a moment to swipe at the hair that had fallen in her face.   
  
Miss Knight knew that Putnam would not give up so easily. His face contorted with wrath, Oliver Putnam charged at her, but she grabbed his two wrists and began whirling him around. When she began to feel dizzy, Emma let Putnam spin into one of the walls.  
  
Keel dashed into one of the dungeon cells, crying, "Miss Knight, send Putnam this way!" He closed the door almost all the way, but he made sure not to lock himself in.  
  
Even though she was still in a dress, Emma Knight kicked her opponent in the seat of his pants. Emma never was one to care much for propriety, thus she wasn't concerned if the doctor saw up her skirt. It was clear that he hadn't, or if he had, he was choosing to ignore it, for as soon as Putnam came head first at him, he pushed the cell door open. Oliver Putnam hit his head on the iron bars and crashed backwards into Emma's waiting arms. She chopped him violently in the neck, her anger dissipating at the sound of her flesh pounding his.  
  
Steed jogged lightly over to Miss Knight and surveyed the pulverized Putnam. "My dear, you have proven yourself to be an extremely talented amateur spy! Might I call on you to assist me in the future?"  
  
"If that is your desire, then you may," Emma replied in a pseudo-polite voice.   
  
"Does that mean you won't be needing me anymore?" Dr. Keel asked hopefully.  
  
"I'm surprised at you man! Where has your patriotism gone? Don't you know it is a privilege and an honour to protect your Mother Country?" Pretending to be offended at Keel's remark, Steed continued to rant in a ridiculous fashion, much to the amusement of his friends.  
  
David Keel leaned over to Emma in order to whisper in her ear, "He might be at this soliloquy for days, so why don't we sneak out and get a nightcap?"  
  
"And while we're enjoying some medicinal spirits will we call the police?" Emma enquired laughingly.  
  
"That was my intention, Miss Knight," answered the gentle doctor. "I'll also tend your wounds if you will allow it." He pointed to her side, which had started to bleed again.  
  
"Lead me, good Doctor Keel," Emma announced in a queenly air. She hooked arms with him, and the two left Steed to his rambling.  
  
It didn't take long for the agent to realise he had been tricked, and he soon ran after the pair, protesting loudly all the way.  
  
  
To Be Continued! 


	10. Third Afternoon

Fourth Afternoon  
  
It was raining the next morning when Emma, John, and David finally awoke from a long slumber. The three met downstairs for breakfast, savoring each morsel of food and each other's company. After the meal, Keel excused himself claiming he had an important telephone call to make. Steed told Miss Knight that he was going to follow his comrade but that he would join her in the gaming room as soon as he could.   
  
Emma smiled in reply, but as soon as he was out of sight, her smile turned into a small frown. Something had to be done about their relationship and she had a feeling it was not going to be an easy change to make.  
  
Steed entered Dr. Keel's room not to find him on the phone but packing his clothes. "You're leaving so soon?"  
  
"We finished the case except for the minor details you always work out." Keel looked up at his friend who was still befuddled. "Steed, I can't take anymore of this spy business. It just isn't my forte; doctoring is."  
  
"I thought you found pleasure in avenging your fiancée's death," Steed replied.  
  
"I never thoroughly enjoyed it, but I felt compelled to spy. I knew I wouldn't be content unless I helped put the criminals that had hurt Peggy and other dastardly villains behind bars." Keel's puppy dog eyes were moist with unashamed tears as he continued, "I will always miss Peggy, but I think it's time I move on. Seeing Miss Knight jarred me from my mourning and made me realise there are other people who need me. Peggy wouldn't have wanted me to continue to pine for her like this."  
  
"I don't see what Miss Knight has to do with you and Peggy."  
  
"Emma Knight, with her courage and intellect, reminded me of a woman other than Peggy-a woman who has stuck by me through all of my attempts to be a topnotch agent. I'm referring to my nurse, Carol, who has helped me on many cases and has consequently put her life in danger. When I saw how Miss Knight had remained so calm while men were threatening to murder her, it reminded me of Carol in similar circumstances. And it made me realise that I had started spying without asking her how she felt about working for me, how she felt knowing she could be kidnapped and killed.  
  
"Carol Wilson has the same gumption and courage as your Miss Knight, but Carol can only give so much. I don't want to see another woman that I admire be killed! I don't think I could handle another death of a person I care so much about." David turned away from Steed as if he was ashamed of his decision. "That's why I must leave this bloody business while Carol and I are still alive. I have avenged my fiancée's death long enough; I need to no more."  
  
John Steed cleared his throat tentatively before enquiring, "Should I stop visiting you altogether, or might I come if it is for a social or health reason?"  
  
"You may come as frequently as you like if you promise to come as my friend or patient." Keel managed to smile despite his despondent feelings.  
  
"You really were a great amateur agent, Keel," Mr. Steed managed to say without his voice breaking with emotions. "I am glad that I got the chance to work with you." He extended his arm for a handshake with the doctor.  
  
"You are an excellent spy, Steed, if only you wouldn't be so ruthless when dealing with the criminals! I'm sure a lot of problems could be easily solved without you resorting to violence." At the sound of his friend's chuckling David Keel stopped his rant. He looked offended for a moment before he joined the merry laughter. "You will never change, Steed!"  
  
"You won't change either, Keel ole boy. Steed slapped him on the back before continuing, "You will always care too much for humanity."  
  
Dr. Keel grew serious as he asked, "What are you going to do about Miss Knight?"  
  
Steed likewise became somber at this enquiry. "I really don't have any idea, but maybe you do?"  
  
"I have to confess that another reason I decided to quit our partnership is because I believe that you love Emma Knight, even if you are a fool enough not to admit it. She will stay with you if you ask her and tell her the truth about your feelings. She will be your new partner in crime-fighting and do a darn good job if I do say so."  
  
Steed shook his head in disagreement, replying, "I really don't think I love her-I can't form an attachment to anyone! Do you honestly think that a woman can take the place of you? As you said about Carol, women can only give so much."  
  
Keel tried not to roll his eyes at this chauvinistic remark. "I said Miss Wilson can only give so much, but Miss Knight is entirely different. True, Carol is strong and brave, but Miss Knight doesn't care if she dies.   
  
"Did you see that look in her eyes as she fought off Mr. Lanier and Mr. Henderson? She was a wildcat, releasing her emotions and getting her revenge! Emma is your counterpart," Dr. Keel paused before he added, "Carol is mine."   
  
"But Miss Knight was placed into the middle of this crime ring without being asked just like Miss Wilson was with you!" Steed protested. "Emma befriended me, unaware that I was an agent, and fell in love with me. She knows that if she stays with me, she and I might both be killed on any given day. Can you comprehend what a vulnerable position into which I've place this strong, determined woman?" Steed leaned forward in order to stare boldly into his friend's eyes. "I can't risk her life in order to fulfill my selfish whims."  
  
David Keel smiled in satisfaction before he announced, "You have just proven to me how very much you love Emma Knight! You'd rather she live than stay with you; I know what a sacrifice that is."  
  
John Steed swallowed around the lump in his throat, not believing what he heard, nor believing how he felt. He was ready to admit that he had been a victim to his own trap! He was willing to say he had not only made a woman fall in love with him, but that he had fallen in love with that woman! "You finish your packing, while I find Miss Knight." Steed left abruptly, not waiting for an answer or any other accusations.  
  
David Keel sighed, thinking of the lofty Miss Knight with her auburn hair and deep brown eyes. As he imagined the young woman, his thoughts drifted to another brunette, smaller, more delicate, but still independent. Dr. Keel heaved a sigh once again as he envisioned Carol Wilson. Her dark eyes weren't quite as big as Emma's, and she didn't have Miss Knight's stature, but she still was lovely to him. Her pale, oval head was outlined by dark tresses, which were always pulled back from her face.  
  
He needed to call Miss Wilson and tell her he was returning to his surgery. He resolutely dialed the number and waited for his nurse and receptionist to answer it. Soon her sweet voice was speaking into the phone. "Carol, this is Dr. Keel," he paused briefly before finishing, "and I'm coming home."  
  
"I shall see you shortly, Dr. Keel," replied the nurse. "Several of your patients needed help, so I sent them to the physician down the street, Dr. Martin King. Which reminds me: Dr. King mentioned some trouble with a crazed man who said something about 'the end of the world.' I was wondering if John Steed could have a look into it . . ."  
  
Keel smiled as Carol continued her dialogue. He knew that Steed was about to be introduced to his next partner in crime fighting.  
  
****************  
  
Mr. Steed exited Keel's hotel room on his way downstairs, but the sight of Emma Knight checked him. She wore a black dress that stopped right above her kneecaps. Two thick white bands were spread across the chest, stopping before they reached the back. Emma waved gregariously at him, motioning him to follow her.  
  
"You were supposed to be downstairs in the game room," Steed said accusatorily.  
  
"I got anxious, so I wandered upstairs." Emma shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, indicating that Steed shouldn't have a fit over her decision. They both entered her hotel room.  
  
"I've often been told that redheads are impatient creatures." Steed wrapped Miss Knight in an amorous embrace and leaned forward for a kiss. Their lips touched confidently, and he was somewhat disappointed when Emma pulled away from him.  
  
"Steed, what are we going to do about our relationship?" Emma Knight fervently asked.  
  
"I intend to get as many kisses out of you as possible," was the mischievous reply.  
  
Emma dodged the warm lips of her companion, saying, "No, I mean what does a person generally do when he falls in love with someone-"  
  
"Someone who is a secret agent?" Steed concluded, his soft eyes gazing understandingly at her. "For starters, both of us have to make a sacrifice. You have to give up your job and I have to take on a woman partner knowing that the risks are greater. Of course, I can train you well, so you won't have any trouble. I always was the exceptional agent -"  
  
"I don't see how there is any more danger when you work with a woman!" protested Emma. "And it seems to me that these sacrifices are fairly lopsided! I give up my work and begin a life of danger while you change nothing! Why don't you drop your job and become a normal human being?"  
  
"And I suppose I should also marry you in the process?" Steed replied hotly.  
  
"Yes, and I will continue being the chairman of the board at my corporation."  
  
"Now you get all the advantages while I'm stuck with the rubbish!" Steed stared at Emma Knight, realising how fruitless this relationship was. "Face it, Miss Knight: we're both too obstinate to change our ways of life. I'm sorry, but this just won't work."  
  
"Then I will return to my job and won't see you again," Emma pronounced decisively. "It was a wonderful few days, ones I'll never forget. I would have liked to work by your side, to save the world and fight crime. But I also want to be married, to love and be loved-something you evidently can't offer." Miss Knight quickly glanced away, afraid that he might see the tears in her eyes. "It's clear that you can't make a commitment of any kind. You want to have a steady woman to come home to each day while you have some fun on the sly."  
  
"I never said anything like that!" Steed insisted.  
  
"You don't have to; I can see it in your whole demeanor."  
  
Steed cringed, for he knew she was right when she said he couldn't commit. The other matter, though, was completely insulting! He was a gentleman who would never fool around with fast women! Trying to find consolation in the heartrending situation, Steed remarked, "Oh well, the first rule in the ministry handbook is 'never take a spouse unless absolutely necessary.' I don't think being attracted to an accomplished woman qualifies as an absolute necessity."  
  
"How fortunate for you that you aren't allowed to get involved with me," Emma commented bitterly. She grabbed Steed by the arm and pushed him out the door. "If you will excuse me, I'd like to be alone right now. Just as Steed was about to go to his own room, she observed, "You still won't say if you are really and truly in love me."  
  
"Since I'm leaving, I don't find it crucial." Steed stepped over to Emma Knight in order to envelop her in another hug, but this time he was filled with comfort, not passion. "You are young and will love again, Miss Knight."  
  
Emma squirmed out of his strong arms, not fully grasping his meaning. "Your whole intent since you first came here was to make me fall head over heels in love with you, and now you have the audacity to tell me I'll get over you?" Her fury dispelled and was replace with despondency as she added, "I will never find another you, John Steed."  
  
With his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and a heavy anchor weighing on his heart, John Steed became extremely uncomfortable. It was then that it hit him with such magnitude that he almost lost his breath. I love Emma! He almost shouted out loud. David Keel was right, confound the man! I want her and need her, but I've got to let her go.   
  
But his reasons for letting her leave were rapidly disintegrating. Not one of them sounded feasible enough, not even for a reluctant dapper dandy like himself. True, Steed had had many girlfriends before, the cute women he turned to for a quiet meal and serious kissing. But never before did he have the desire to expand on the relationship and consider matrimony. Emma Knight was the only one he was willing to forfeit everything to be with.  
  
Steed shook his head, realising that he was too set in his ways to change for anybody. He couldn't leave his job as an agent, and even if Emma wanted to help him with the cases, how could he let her when he could lose the one thing he loved the most? He was too chivalrous to just ignore all possible dangers and let her charge into the enemy's clutches. His mind and heart were divided, making it impossible to decided what road to take.  
  
Emma witnessed this change of emotions in Steed but didn't know what to make of it. Sighing in exasperation, she shut the door in his face.  
  
John Steed quietly and efficiently packed his suitcases then headed downstairs to the lobby. Jean, having been arrested, no longer worked there; so a new receptionist checked Mr. Steed out.   
  
As he was heading out the door into the torrential downpour, Dr. Keel called to him, "So you are leaving as well, Steed?"  
  
Mr. John Steed turned to face the compassionate doctor. "I broke Emma's heart, fell in love with her as well, and have no bloody clue what to do about it. I want her, but I don't want her to be killed. I can't help thinking of Peggy and how she was taken from you right before you were married."  
  
"Why don't you compare yourself and Miss Knight to Carol and me?" suggest Keel. "We're still both here after all the spying and abductions."   
  
"Are you trying to tell me that you and Carol have secretly been a couple?" John teased.   
  
Keel chose to ignore the last playful accusation. "I just want my friends to be happy and successful in life."   
  
Steed deliberated over the last sentence then declared, "I'll come visit you soon, Dr. Keel. Do you have any recommendations for a new partner for me?"  
  
"Carol mentioned another doctor who needed your aid, so maybe he could assist you in return."  
  
"I'll have to take a look into this matter when I get home."  
  
"Steed," began the doctor, "what are you going to do about Miss Knight?"  
  
"What I should have done from the very beginning: leave her alone." With that last direct answer, John Steed exited the castle. Since it was pouring outside, he asked a valet to fetch his car.  
  
Keel knew that it would take a little longer for Steed to leave, so he ran upstairs to Miss Knight's room. He repeatedly knocked on her door until she had no choice but to open it. Emma gazed at him, dumbfounded before enquiring, "What are you doing here, Dr. Keel?"  
  
"Steed-he's leaving," Keel panted before concluding, "and he's in love with you!"  
  
Emma stared at him with wide but jubilant eyes. "He told you?" she whispered in utter ecstasy.  
  
"I don't know you that well, but from what I can decipher, you and Steed were meant to be together. When you and he were together, there was something extraordinary in the air like electricity! It something's so phenomenal, I don't think anybody could explain it. You seem to be an extremely intelligent woman, but if you let Steed go, it will be the biggest mistake in your life!"  
  
"Does this mean you no longer are his partner in crime-fighting?"   
  
"I have my patients and my nurse who depend on me," Keel informed her.  
  
Emma arched an eyebrow as she asked impishly, "Is this nurse looking forward to your return from Millbury Castle?"  
  
David Keel crimsoned slightly before returning, "I sincerely hope so, but I can't be too certain or eager."  
  
"I wish you the best of luck in your work, at the office and at home." Emma placed a light kiss on his creased forehead and dashed out of the room as quickly as a lioness on the prowl. She stormed into the lobby, never stopping, never thinking; just searching for Steed. As she ventured into the rain, she spotted him getting into his vehicle.   
  
"Steed, wait for me!" Miss Knight shouted. She shoved a startled valet out of the way in order to reach Steed's car. Unfortunately, Steed did not hear her, or perhaps he did not wish to acknowledge her. He sped down the gravel and now muddy parking lot. Undaunted, Emma ran after him, yelling in a very uncharacteristic way.  
  
Finally, Mr. Steed pulled off to the side of the car park and hopped out. He gazed at the drenched Miss Knight in surprise, as he demanded, "Why are you following me, Emma Knight? I thought we understood that this relationship could never work."   
  
"You love me, and that's enough to get us through anything!" Emma cried. The heavy rain smeared her makeup and flattened her curled hair.  
  
"No it isn't; not in this world and age." Now John's trench coat and bowler were sodden with the never ceasing rainfall.  
  
"As you said, we both have to make sacrifices. We'll each give up a bit of our independence in order to be with each other. You can still be an agent, and I'll still be a successful entrepreneur. If you need help with a case, I will lend a hand, providing I'm not too busy."  
  
"Actually, Keel told me of another doctor that could be my unofficial assistant."  
  
"Then he could help you with the actual sleuthing while I did the brainwork at home!" suggested Emma Knight.  
  
"It sounds admirable, but the ministry rules clearly specify that agents should not marry unless it's an emergency."  
  
"Hang the regulations; I love you!" Emma swiped a piece of soaked hair from her forehead and stared directly into Steed's eyes.   
  
Steed found himself kissing her ardently on her lips, cheeks, nose and forehead. He lightly brushed her mouth once more before he clambered into his car.   
  
Emma stood still, utterly bemused, and then she rushed at him with all the rage of a madwoman. "You know what your problem is, Mr. John Steed? You are afraid to love because it might take something precious away from you. Whether it's your independency, free time, or your irresponsibility, I'm not certain, but I wouldn't doubt if it were all these things. I am willing to give up a little that is special to me, so why can't you do the same?" Frustrated at Steed's silence, she bellowed, "Fine, be a coward, and get out of my life!" She slammed his car door so loudly, the valet back at the castle entrance was certain it was the sound of thunder.  
  
John Steed pulled out of the car park onto the long, winding drive that led to the highway. He cruised out of Emma's site-and her life, just as she had commanded him. Emma Knight never felt such desolation and complete despair. Steed's departure was incomparable even to both of her parent's death. She stared out into the void, wondering what she could have done to persuade Steed to stay.  
  
Meanwhile, Steed drove through the blinding rain, meditating over the last several hours. Half of him wished he had decided differently, but the other was resolute in his choice. Then six words entered his head like a trumpet's clarion call. "I always was the exceptional agent." He had boasted that to Emma minutes ago, yet he was following the rulebook of every other spy by refusing to marry her! The words continued to drum in his brain, but still he relentlessly drove down the road away from Millbury Castle . . .  
  
Miss Emma Knight was stationed to the ground outside the resort. She began to cry a myriad of silent tears-tears that mingled with the rainwater. The water poured from her sopping dress to the mud and gravel. She gazed into the distance as if it might pull John Steed out of his car. After countless minutes, it became evident that she had lost the most wonderful gift on earth: Love. She turned to enter the castle, but as she did, the resonance of a slamming door compelled her to whirl around.  
  
There in the middle of the parking lot was John Steed, not quite as soaked as she, but what did that matter? He approached her, hands in coat pockets, bowler nowhere in sight. As Emma gazed into his soft eyes, she could see the love and fiery passion brimming in them.   
  
"What made you change your mind about . . .us?" Emma asked, attempting not to cry.  
  
"I remembered that I didn't have to obey the same orders like the other spies!" Tongue planted firmly in cheek, John Steed concluded, "I am the exception, not the rule!"   
  
Then he cupped Miss Knight's chin in his brawny hands and placed a delicate kiss on her wet mouth. Draping her arms over his shoulders, Emma returned the gesture but with much more zeal. When their lips pulled apart, Steed looked hopefully at her and said three simple words. "Marry me, Emma?"  
  
Emma Knight flashed her gorgeous smile as she nodded her head. The rain streamed off her hair and face onto Steed's soaked shoes. As the duo laughed jovially at their wet predicament, Steed grabbed her by the waist and swung her around.  
  
From his vantage point just outside the castle gate, Dr. Keel watched the oblivious couple. He knew then that his work was officially done. He disappeared into the castle where a porter waited with his luggage.  
  
Steed's and Emma's lips interlocked a third time, and they kissed with all the ardour of a couple madly and truly in love.  
  
Tag  
  
**"Once there was an intelligent, handsome, and young man by the name of John Wickham Gascoyne Berresford Steed. To use an oxymoron, he was a roguish gentlemen. He could never get through the day without . . . well, flirting, but he did it with such a respectable manner no one ever minded, especially the ladies.  
  
" Steed was part of a spy agency, and he was extremely good at his profession. One day he was assigned to a particularly difficult case: businessmen were disappearing after being stalked, and no one knew who was the kidnapper. All they knew was these businessmen were staying at a fancy resort near Derbyshire, and that it was imperative that Steed hurry on over with one of his partners. Anyway, Steed and [Keel], sleuthed and eventually solved the case.  
  
"While on this case, Steed had meant an attractive young woman, and being what kind of a man he was, Steed had been trying to win her affections. However, this woman was Steed's counterpart in almost every way. She would not fall so easily for the charming Steed, and for once, Steed was at a lost. He did everything human possible to get her to love him. I don't know how or when it happened, but this woman suddenly was desperately in love with him.  
  
"Steed, knowing how difficult it had been to get this woman to love him, realised it would be indecent just to end the relationship, but what else was there to do? [Perhaps] Steed thought about it for a full day in between solving the mystery, which was still going on at this time. Finally he made a rather startling discovery. He, John Steed, renowned spy and bachelor, had for the first time in his thirty odd years of existence fallen in love. He married her. In some people's eyes it was a terrible thing to do to such an independent woman.  
  
"Mrs. Steed and he both worked, him as a spy, her as a business woman. It was really a very shocking thing to do to her, but they both found the arrangement admirable. Then the inevitable occurred, and Steed was faced with a new challenge. His wife was getting worried about him because of his profession. She insisted that she should be able to join the ministry and be partners with her husband, so they'd never be separated. Steed thought it was a simple enough request, considering what his other option was, which would be quitting the ministry. But One-ten, who was the head of the ministry at the time, disagreed. He believed if Steed's wife was his partner, Steed was liable to get distracted from his work. They would be kissing and carrying on in a disgusting fashion while the criminals got away.  
  
"Soon Steed was taking off more days to spend with his wife, and so One-ten became panicky. What if this was Steed's way of letting us know that he wanted to quit the ministry? So One-ten did the only thing he could think of: he brainwashed Steed to forget that he was married, and he brainwashed his wife to think she was a widow of a man named Mr. Peter Peel. One-ten programmed them to still be very close friends, thinking this would compensate for his actions.**  
  
"One day, with the help of Catherine Gale and Tara King, the Steeds discovered they were married. They were brainwashed once again, but their friends helped them remember. The ministry couldn't really brainwash them a third time, especially since Emma was now pregnant. So the Steeds and their ministry friends quit that agency and joined another one where they were more lenient over spies having spouses.  
  
"Life has been one adventure after another for the Avengers. You may think that this is the end of their story. But I tell you that it is only the beginning . . ."  
  
- Asterisked dialogue quoted from my first story, Mother Knows Best, with some revisions and editing 


End file.
